Washed Up
A/N: more backstory! The cover image for this story is the picture that was taken when Momo and Kaidoh won the nationals together in their third year.
Authors: Celianna (Momo) & Happiestwhen (Kaidoh)
Rating: T
Events leading up to this log: Kaidoh develops a crush on Momo in his second year, but doesn't say anything even going into their third year. Inui has given Kaidoh his data on Momo so he can be a good captain, but Kaidoh simply uses this to stalk Momo. They also win the Nationals again this year, and a picture was taken on the day they won, which Momo and Kaidoh both keep.
Date: set on Christmas eve in Momo and Kaidoh's third year
"Here you go Takeshi, we got it from a really nice cake shop today, it's supposed to be a new and improved recipe, specially for Christmas. Enjoy it," says his mother.
Momoshiro won't say no to food though, and he happily looks at the small square box on the table. He reaches for it with his prying and wriggling fingers, until his father slaps his hand away from it.
"Share it with someone, don't eat the entire thing yourself, son," he says sternly.
"But dad!"
"No buts. Be polite. Find a nice girl."
Momoshiro grumbles and bites his lip in annoyance. What girl would come out with him right now to eat cake? Everyone was busy; they have already made plans for Christmas. He wouldn't be able to reach anyone on that short notice. He'll just eat the entire cake for himself, no one would notice.
"Alright, we'll be gone all night, don't wait up for us, Takeshi," says his mother. His mother and father stare at each other lovingly, so much that it makes Momoshiro want to gag. They say goodbye and leave the house together.
He's alone now, alone on Christmas, with a cake. Momoshiro sits down at the table and pries open the lid of the box, until he's jolted by a small beep of his cellphone. Pulling his hand back, he reaches into his pocket to take it out. He's got a text message from Eiji. He opens it up, and sees a picture of Eiji having fun eating lots of ice cream with his family. Momoshiro wants to smile, but it's hard to when he knows he's all alone in his house, alone with cake.
Even cake can't cheer him up anymore.
Sending a half-assed reply to Eiji, Momoshiro stuffs it back in his pocket. Well, maybe he can bug one of his friends after all, the ones that weren't out on some stupid romantic Christmas date. Eiji was with his family though, and everyone else he wasn't exactly that familiar with, not to mention they had dates of their own. And calling any of the other old members of Seigaku felt strange, since he hadn't kept contact with them. So that left no one else. He sighs once more, and starts to browse through his contact list on his cellphone. It's pretty long, but a lot of those people he has never talked to anymore, so as he goes down the list, he starts deleting a bunch of them as well.
He stops at the letter D, and there's one contact listed under it.
Dumbass.
Hmm. Kaidoh would definitely not have a date on Christmas, that dumbass doesn't even know any girls for him to have a date, for sure he'd be free to waste time as well, but this is Kaidoh. It'd be weird. Not like they did a lot of stuff outside of running the tennis club. Sure, there were a few times in between, but Christmas is special. Not to mention hailed as the most romantic day for couples of the year. And it's not like he's a stupid couple with Kaidoh—no, that's way too weird.
Maybe he'll just linger outside instead, being cooped up alone in the house feels lonely. Not even his sister is there to bother him, she went out with friends or something. Everyone had something to do, except for Momoshiro. So he finally decides to go eat his cake alone in the park, maybe he can meet some other loners like himself and strike up a conversation.
He wraps himself up tight, a long sturdy winter coat, a hand knitted scarf—courtesy of his grandma—red woolen gloves, a white hat with a stupid ball on top of it, and he's ready to go. He takes the cake with him, might as well use it as bait for kids or something. He can hang out with kids, kids are fun. Momoshiro finally leaves his house after turning off the lights.
It's dark, and there's snow everywhere on the ground. Not to mention it's freezing. Little puffs of smoke disappear in front of him as he breathes slowly. He'll just go sit at the park in his neighborhood. Like a loser who couldn't find a date on Christmas. He sighs, but drags his feet through the snow either way. Within a few minutes he's there. A lone streetlight is the only thing that illuminates the small playground. It's completely empty, and the swings look even lonelier than normal. Well, there goes his plan to attract kids with cake and have fun and not think about being alone.
Momoshiro sits down on the swing, and places the box of cake on the other swing. He digs his face into his scarf and looks straight ahead, at the street across the park. It's quiet. It's cold. What the hell is he doing on Christmas Eve? This is stupid.
Maybe he should have bugged Kaidoh after all.
Kaidoh has been staring at his phone for the past hour. He has Momoshiro's number programmed in as speed dial #4, after his home number, and his mother's and father's cell phones, but he's only ever called it when there was tennis business… and the one time he'd dialed it by accident and Momoshiro had kept him on the line talking his ear off about some stupid homework assignment and Kaidoh had lost twenty-five minutes of training time that evening. He'd wanted to hang up, but somehow his fingers wouldn't click the End Call button, so he'd just sat there on his bed listening to Momoshiro yammer on, his pulse quickening and the palm holding the phone up to his ear growing sweatier by the minute.
Tonight is different, though. Tonight there's definitely no tennis business, and if Kaidoh calls Momoshiro it wouldn't be an accident, and that's what's so frightening. It's Christmas Eve, and for the first time in the three years they've known each other, Kaidoh has a present to give Momoshiro.
It's not much—a simple scarf that he'd knitted by hand, the stitches a bit sloppy and loose, but it's red and Kaidoh knows Momoshiro likes red, and Kaidoh's seen Momoshiro wear scarves to school in the colder months, so maybe he'd wear this one too, and it would be warm, and Kaidoh tried really hard to make it decent. He'd even tried to sew the Seishun Gakuen school logo onto the bottom corner with blue thread but it had turned out more like a demented snowflake, but maybe Momoshiro wouldn't notice, or would even think it was kind of cool.
That is, if Kaidoh can get up the courage to give the scarf to Momoshiro in the first place.
It's a dumb gift, and Momoshiro and Kaidoh never give each other gifts in the first place, not for birthdays, not for Christmas, not for any other special occasions. They give each other punches in the face and kicks in the leg during laps around the tennis courts. Kaidoh isn't even sure why he made the stupid scarf in the first place. He had just wanted to make something nice for Momoshiro.
He flips his phone shut and jams it back into the pocket of his shorts. Maybe he doesn't have to give the scarf to Momoshiro in person. After all, that would be weird, and Momoshiro would probably ask Kaidoh what the hell he's doing giving him a present, on Christmas Eve of all days, and he'd probably think Kaidoh liked him or something, and Kaidoh doesn't. At least, he thinks he doesn't. No, he doesn't think that's why he's doing this at all. But then, he doesn't have a clue about Momoshiro lately. Kaidoh still wants to fight with him, sure, but there's something else, something that makes him get nervous and jumpy around Momoshiro, and makes him have sudden, uncontrollable instincts to smile at him or catch his eye in the clubroom. It frustrates Kaidoh to no end because he doesn't get it, and he doesn't like it, and yet at the same time he does, and that frustrates him more than anything and makes him want to slam his fist into a wall until his knuckles bleed. He'd slam his fist into Momoshiro's stomach instead but lately that just makes him feel weird and jittery, like he's been punched in the stomach too.
He decides that maybe he can just leave the scarf on Momoshiro's doorstep, ring the bell and run off before Momoshiro opens the door, and then he'll never have to know that Kaidoh was the one who gave it to him. Then Momoshiro can feel nice and warm and Kaidoh won't have to explain what's going on, since he can't even explain that much to himself. Or maybe Kaidoh can put it in the mailbox outside Momoshiro's house with a note. No, that won't work. Momoshiro would recognize Kaidoh's handwriting in a second. Or maybe Kaidoh can just give the scarf to Momoshiro's mother or father or sister or whomever answers the door and say it's a gift from… Kaidoh's whole family. But then what if Momoshiro were to answer the door himself? Then what?
Kaidoh decides that the first option is the safest. He'll just jog by Momoshiro's house and drop the scarf off, and Momoshiro will have it and it will stop sitting on Kaidoh's desk like a horrible, guilty reminder of Kaidoh's Problem with Momoshiro and then maybe Kaidoh won't have to think about Momoshiro like that anymore. Maybe once the scarf is out of his room, the strange feelings will leave too.
Kaidoh sets out on his running route, wearing his usual tank top and shorts despite the cold weather, and it doesn't take long for him to warm up and feel comfortable in the crisp winter air, his bare arms and legs delighting in the chilly night as he runs at a steady, breathless pace. At the turn he'd usually take to run along the river, Kaidoh instead goes left, heading for Momoshiro's neighborhood, the scarf folded flat and tucked neatly into his pocket. As he nears Momoshiro's house, Kaidoh slows and looks up at Momoshiro's front door. The lights are off inside and Kaidoh feels something like annoyance settle in his stomach. Is Momoshiro not even home? He checks his watch, which reads only 8:09. He can't be asleep yet. Did Momoshiro have plans tonight? Did he have a date? The thought stings at Kaidoh like a barb, but he tells himself that it's just the nippy air getting to him because his pace has slowed down.
He sticks his hand in his pocket and his fingers curl around the scarf and then he releases and pulls his hand out again. He kicks his shoe into the snow and shakes his head. This is stupid. This is really, really stupid. He shouldn't be here in the first place. He starts running again, leaving Momoshiro's house behind and continuing down toward the end of the street, where Kaidoh turns left. And left again. Until he's doubling back and turning back onto Momoshiro's street. This time Kaidoh glares at Momoshiro's house as he passes. Asshole, Kaidoh thinks, but he doesn't stop.
The third time Kaidoh loops around, he slows down and comes to a halt in front of Momoshiro's house, and he thinks, he's come this far, he's been running in circles—literally, and he may as well just get this over with. Because it's stupid, but so is Momoshiro, and as long as he doesn't know that the scarf is from Kaidoh, what harm can it do? Kaidoh can't stand having the thing in his pocket anymore, the reminder of the hours of knitting that went into it, and the hours of thinking about Momoshiro before that which led up to Kaidoh's decision to even make the thing in the first place. It's just a scarf, he tells himself. It doesn't have to mean anything. But standing there, in front of Momoshiro's house, Kaidoh suddenly feels cold; the sweat on his bare arms catching the wind, and he shivers, both from the chill in the December air, and from his own nervous energy.
The first time Momoshiro sees someone run by the park, he doesn't pay much attention to it. He's rocking back and forth on the swing, the tips of his shoes covered in snow, and his hands stuffed into his long coat. The one lone streetlight doesn't do much to light its surroundings, so when he sees someone run by, he doesn't get a good look at it.
Momoshiro isn't quite sure why he's still outside in the first place. He hates the cold, he hates the way it makes his blood vessels pinch closed until he's nothing but a popsicle. If he tries to warm himself up again, the blood comes rushing back to his body and it burns—it stings. So why is he out here?
There's no one there, no one but him, and it's sad and pathetic, and he really wishes he had called Kaidoh right now, because Momoshiro feels like punching someone. Then maybe he can keep himself warm too, moving around like that. And maybe he'd stop feeling so down too; he has always spent Christmas with his family, but not today. Which shouldn't make him turn into some kind of droopy angsty sap, but Momoshiro can't help it. He's a people person, he likes to be surrounded by them. He sighs and stares out to the row of houses that are all dark. Everyone is gone today. Every has plans but him.
The second time someone runs past the park, Momoshiro finally catches sight of them. He sees someone running, and that running looks familiar. Long limbs, long strides, same pace as always—there's even a bandana, and in fact, he's wearing the same thing he does when he's training in the summer. Momoshiro stares dumbly as he runs off the street and rounds a corner to the left.
Was that … Kaidoh?
Momoshiro scoffs out loud; that can't be it. Why would it be Kaidoh? Kaidoh doesn't run in his neighborhood, and he certainly wouldn't run outside wearing nothing but summer attire. That would be stupid, even for the stupid snake. Besides, there's no reason for Kaidoh to be there, so Momoshiro concludes it was someone else, someone who looked a lot like Kaidoh. Maybe it was his evil twin. Or good twin, seeing as how Kaidoh does nothing but picks fights with him and insults him. Though lately he's been a bit weird about that. Momoshiro notices how sometimes he pulls back as if he's just been stung by a bee when Momoshiro would surprise him out of nowhere and gives him a friendly punch. Said friendly punch is returned by a you-need-to-die-punch because Kaidoh apparently, does not like to be surprised.
Why the hell is he thinking about Kaidoh on Christmas Eve? This is stupid. He should be thinking about eating the lonely cake on the other swing.
What's Kaidoh doing anyway? Is he eating out with family, or is he out on a date with some stupid girl? Nah, that can't be true; Kaidoh scares everyone away, especially girls. As is evident that he has to try and convince all the first year tennis club members behind Kaidoh's back, that he's actually not that bad. That he doesn't kill puppies, nor eat them, and he's a good guy. Sort of. As far as good guys go. Kaidoh's attitude towards everyone else really doesn't help his already scary image either. For Momoshiro, it doesn't matter; he's known Kaidoh for almost three whole years now, and never once has he been scared of him.
Especially when he found out Kaidoh has a soft spot for animals.
He hadn't meant to, but during his second year, Momoshiro might have accidentally followed Kaidoh home one day. It was probably because Kaidoh punched him in the stomach really hard that day, and he wanted revenge, so Momoshiro was looking for an opportunity to pounce on him out of nowhere, and beat the crap out of him. The desire to punch Kaidoh in the face all but slipped away when he saw what Kaidoh did during his running; he was feeding cats. There was a bunch of them on the street, and they were all gathering around Kaidoh as if he was some kind of cat magnet, or maybe he had catnip in his pocket—which suddenly, he wouldn't put it past him. The snake sat there for at least twenty minutes, petting the cats, cooing at them, feeding them, and he snaps a few pictures with his cellphone as well.
Completely subconsciously—not like he wanted to or anything—Momoshiro takes out his own cellphone, and he snaps a picture of Kaidoh smiling at the cats. He feels like he's just found something rare, something extraordinary. It was like finding the rarest Pokemon Card in the world, and he's the luckiest bastard alive.
Which weirds him out, so he quickly runs away, but doesn't erase the picture from his phone.
That was more than a year ago, and Momoshiro is still guilty for keeping that picture. He likes to look at it sometimes to remind himself that Kaidoh can smile too, and he's not a vicious devil that should go rot in some kind of hole filled with large spikes. He's not the tennis captain from hell, making everyone train to death.
But not everyone else knows that. Especially those that have just met him. Momoshiro knows Kaidoh's appearance scares people off (why it doesn't scare cats off, that still continues to stump him), and coupled with his hissing and shouting out profanity, Kaidoh makes enemies fast. Most of the first years are scared of him, something which Kaidoh seems oblivious to, and Momoshiro tries his best to make them see Kaidoh is not the devil, he's alright, he's the captain of the club for god's sake—stop making stupid jokes about him behind his back. It pisses Momoshiro off. Only he can insult Kaidoh, he reserves all rights to that, no one else.
In fact, several months ago, before the nationals, Momoshiro lost his self control when this second year, Koshida, went off ranting about Kaidoh when he wasn't there. Momoshiro saw nothing but red, and he punched him hard in the face, leaving him with a black eye. Then like a real badass, he looked around at everyone who was there to witness it, and said that if he hears anyone talk about Kaidoh one more time that isn't filled with praise, he will personally see to it no one will produce sperm anymore. After that, the whispering behind Kaidoh's back quieted down, and Koshida never said a word that it was Momoshiro who punched him. Not even when Kaidoh made him run ten laps for getting into a fight.
Momoshiro felt sort of proud.
And Kaidoh never even had a clue.
Like hell will he ever tell him; that would make it seem like Momoshiro cares or something. And he doesn't. Okay, he's thinking about Kaidoh way too much. He sighs; this is what happens when he's lonely. He starts thinking about weird things.
In fact, he's being so weird, he's seeing Kaidoh run down the street, wearing nothing but shorts and a tank top, before he disappears around the corner. Wait. Momoshiro rubs his eyes and blinks. He really did see Kaidoh run on the street, didn't he? No, he can't be … Kaidoh doesn't run in Momoshiro's neighborhood, and he certainly wouldn't do it on Christmas.
He pulls his hand out of his pocket and slips off his red woolen glove, already his fingers feel frozen in the cold air, but he tries to ignore it as he reaches for his cellphone. Momoshiro flips it open, and calls 'Dumbass' from his contact list. He presses the phone against his ear and listens to it as it rings, watching his own little puffs of smoke in front of him, surprisingly quiet.
Kaidoh, already on edge, nearly jumps out of his shoes when his pocket starts vibrating with an incoming call. He fishes out his phone and sees "Momoshiro" flashing insistently on the screen. Kaidoh looks at Momoshiro's house and wonders if Momoshiro is inside, watching him from a darkened bedroom. That would be really creepy. And awful! Then Momoshiro would figure out everything and Kaidoh would be cornered. He feels his face heat up in a way it shouldn't on a night this cold and he ducks down behind a bush, glancing worriedly up at the dark windows of Momoshiro's house.
Maybe Momoshiro isn't home, he thinks hopefully. Maybe he's out having fun and just called Kaidoh to gloat. If he is, and he did, then Kaidoh would have a reason to be angry with him and could hate him instead of feeling... other things.
Kaidoh opens his phone and lifts it to his ear. "What is it?" he asks, trying to sound like he's very busy and can't be bothered with whatever Momoshiro is calling about.
Momoshiro swings back and forth on the swing as he looks up towards the night sky. "Yo, Kaidoh. What are you wearing right now?" The air rushes past him as he swings back, and it touches the cellphone too, making it sound like Momoshiro is breathing really loudly.
"Uhhh," Kaidoh's voice stumbles out. He's caught completely off-guard. What the hell kind of question is that? And why does Momoshiro sound so weird? He shoots a glare at Momoshiro's house, in case Momoshiro really is lurking inside, staring back at him like some creepy pervert.
"What's it to you what I'm wearing?!" he replies with an indignant growl.
"Are you wearing that stupid black tank top, with your stupid shorts, and your stupid green bandana? Oh, and no socks of course."
Kaidoh's eyes go wide and he jerks the phone away from his ear. He stares at it in his hand like it's a ticking time bomb about to explode in his face. He feels a chill rush through him that has nothing to do with the weather.
Then cautiously, Kaidoh puts the phone back to his ear and hisses, "Where are you?"
Momoshiro grins mischievously; Kaidoh's reaction indicates that yes, he's wearing that, and yes, that was him running through the streets. "Somewhere where I can see you." Well, not exactly, he did see him, just not at this moment. But it's fun to freak Kaidoh out. Maybe he can make him believe he's got some sort of psychic powers, and then he won't be bored on Christmas Eve anymore.
Kaidoh darts upright from behind the bush and scans around the street, looking for signs of Momoshiro, expecting to see spiky hair peeking up from behind a mailbox, or hear his stupidly loud laugh echo out of a car window, but the street is silent. He doesn't see movement anywhere. He feels panicked and annoyed and he's actually getting kind of cold now. Where the fuck was Momoshiro and how did he know what Kaidoh was wearing?!
"No, you idiot, stop looking, I'm not hiding," adds Momoshiro with a heavy sigh. He can already see Kaidoh looking frightened like a lost puppy, his wide eyes searching high and low as to where Momoshiro might be. Though perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say, because now it really did seem like Momoshiro was watching him if he knew Kaidoh was looking around.
"Asshole!" Kaidoh growls, his skin prickling with goosebumps. "Tell me where you are so I can come kick your ass." That's sure to warm him up at least.
"I'm at the playground you passed by a couple of times already. Why are you here anyway? Don't you have anything to do on Christmas?" asks Momoshiro. Maybe Kaidoh is trying out a new way of annoying Momoshiro, by running in his neighborhood. Or maybe it's just an excuse to pick a fight with him. Not that he'll reject it. He could use some social interaction, even if that interaction came from an antisocial snake. Who seems to be running around his neighborhood.
Maybe he's prowling on some kids. Or something.
"Of course I have things to do," he retorts. "I'm training, aren't I?" Stupid Momoshiro, ruining Kaidoh's plans and interrupting his training now on top of it all. Kaidoh shivers. Now that he's stopped, he's realizing just how impractical a tank top is at the end of December. Dumbass, he thinks, at himself, at Momoshiro, at the idiotic red scarf still sitting smugly in his pocket.
"Don't move," he says, and snaps his phone shut. Then he starts running again until he's at the end of the street. When he turns the corner this time, he sees Momoshiro sitting there on a swing in the middle of the park, looking annoying as usual, and also a lot warmer than Kaidoh. Kaidoh stops, and glares, and wants to kick himself for not noticing earlier. It really shouldn't be that hard for him to miss Momoshiro, especially when he was thinking about him all night. But Kaidoh tends to get really focused when he's running. He doesn't notice much, unless it's meowing at him. Once he'd nearly plowed into a parked bicycle that happened to be in his path. And how the hell was he supposed to know Momoshiro would be out here anyway, hanging out in a playground like an idiot?
Spotting Kaidoh turning back around, Momoshiro waves his arm at him like a happy little kid who had too much sugar for that day.
"Yo, Mamushi!" he calls out to him. Heh, so it was Kaidoh after all. Great. He didn't even have to call him up to drop by, since he was already there. Momoshiro takes the box of cake off the other swing so Kaidoh can take a seat if he wants, and places it in his lap. He also puts back his glove on his hand, since it's gotten cold.
Speaking of cold, Kaidoh looks really, really cold like that. Is he an idiot? Does he think he's got immunity to the freezing cold?
"Aren't you cold?" Momoshiro asks once Kaidoh gets close enough.
"No," Kaidoh replies grumpily, ignoring the way his teeth have started to chatter when he speaks. "I'm fine like this."
"Reeeaaally," Momoshiro drawls out in a mocking tone. He starts to rock a little on the swing, using his feet on the ground to push him along. "Why are you dressed like that anyway?"
"Because I'm running, moron," says Kaidoh. "Why are you sitting out here alone?"
"I was waiting for Santa Claus to drop a present in my lap." Momoshiro looks down at the box in his lap. "Oh look, he did!" He looks back up at Kaidoh again. "No, you moron. I'm here 'cause I got nothing else to do and got bored. My family is away on some kind of romantic date, my sister is at her friends, and I'm all alone for tonight."
Kaidoh shivers, and isn't sure if it's from the cold or from what Momoshiro has just said, or maybe both.
Watching Kaidoh carefully, Momoshiro takes the box from his lap, stands up, and sets it onto the swing. The snow crushes under his feet as he moves about. He stands up straight and unravels the grey scarf that was wrapped around his neck for warmth. It's one that his grandma had knit for him; it's still warm from his own body heat. Momoshiro walks over to Kaidoh and throws the scarf over his head in a loop, then sloppily wraps it around him, ignoring any protests Kaidoh might have made during it, and ties it a bit too tight just to annoy the snake. Momoshiro grins at him as he steps back.
"You looked like you needed it," he says. "Your face is all red." Then, for good measure, he adds, "Idiot."
"Shut up," Kaidoh hisses. This isn't right at all. He's supposed to give Momoshiro his scarf, and then leave, run away if possible, not stand here blushing with his neck wrapped up in Momoshiro's scarf so tight it's practically strangling him with warmth. And it is warm, probably warmer than the one Kaidoh made, anyway. He wonders if Momoshiro likes grey better than red.
"I didn't need your stupid scarf," Kaidoh says after a moment, stressing the word stupid more than is really necessary.
Momoshiro narrows his eyes at him. "It's not stupid. You're stupid. Who the hell runs out like that in the middle of winter? Do you not see the snow around you? Moron." He takes a seat back on the swing, hugging his box of cake. He's not sharing it with Kaidoh, not if he's going to act like an asshole.
"Don't you have anything to do on Christmas?" Like scare away girls? Or is his neighborhood really that fascinating?
Kaidoh's mouth twists up angrily. "It's just Christmas. I don't need to have something to do." In truth, he has something to do, but Momoshiro is wrecking it, and now Kaidoh's stuck. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs his shoulders. "I just felt like running," he says.
Momoshiro grins at him. "Couldn't find a date, huh?" he teases him. "Come, sit down. It's annoying when you look like you're ready to dash off at any time now." He tilts his head towards the other lonely swing next to him.
It's better than having no company at all, so Momoshiro will gladly accept Kaidoh's grumpiness for the night. If the snake wants to hang out at all. He looks mighty uncomfortable, and his face has this weird expression on it. Maybe Momoshiro ruined Kaidoh's Christmas by coming across him. Well, too bad. Momoshiro's Christmas is already ruined when he's got no one to share it with. They can share each other's misery.
Kaidoh narrows his eyes, but doesn't protest, just sits down on the swing next to Momoshiro. It must have been years since he's been on a swing, or at a playground at all. It feels weird, especially with Momoshiro there next to him, but lately everything with Momoshiro has felt weird, almost so much that Kaidoh is kind of growing used to it.
He pulls at the scarf at his neck to loosen it a bit. It really is a nice scarf. The stitches are all perfect, not crappy and knotted up like Kaidoh's own effort. Momoshiro would probably hate Kaidoh's stupid scarf, just like he probably hates Kaidoh.
Kaidoh reaches for the swing chains and inhales a sharp breath when his fingers close around them. They feel like icicles and he lets go instantly, sitting there awkwardly with his hands down at his sides, not really swinging at all.
"What's in the box?" he asks finally.
"I'm not quite sure," muses Momoshiro. "Some kind of cake."
Glancing at Kaidoh in the corner of his eyes, Momoshiro sees that Kaidoh is looking really cold, so lonely on the swing, wearing nothing but shorts, a tank top, and his now warm scarf. His fingers look red, being exposed to the cold like that. It looks quite pathetic, to be honest; why did he come out here wearing nothing but that?
Feeling kind of sorry for the snake, Momoshiro begrudgingly decides to share it with Kaidoh after all. He lifts off the cover of the box to reveal a plain brown cake, with white English lettering on top that says; Happy Christmasu, my sweatharte. Momoshiro isn't sure what it means, he sucks at English. He recognizes the Christmas part though, so it's probably some kind of holiday phrase.
"Want to share it with me?" he asks. He doesn't have anyone to share it with, why not Kaidoh. He looks like he could eat some cake. Momoshiro takes off his gloves once more, and then pries his fingers underneath the slice with sweatharte on it (it's pre-sliced, which is neat), then lifts it up out of the box, a few crumbs rolling down into the cuff of his coat, and offers it to Kaidoh, like feeding a puppy dog.
Momoshiro flashes Kaidoh a slight smile. "Here."
Kaidoh takes the cake, but he doesn't eat it, just holds it stiffly in his hand, staring at the looping English lettering. He's pretty sure that's not a word. Even Momoshiro's cake is an idiot.
"I don't really eat sweet things," he says, and looks back at Momoshiro nervously. He also doesn't really spend Christmas Eve on swing sets with his tennis rival, who is suddenly making him all blushy again. Dumbass. At least the cold offers a good excuse.
Kaidoh looks at the snow at his feet and continues, "But... thanks."
"Who doesn't like sweet things?" scoffs Momoshiro. He takes a slice of his own and takes a big bite out of it. It's … coffee flavoured. It's not sweet at all, not really. It's kind of bitter, and well—tastes like coffee. Momoshiro isn't a huge fan of coffee, but he can stomach it when he can eat it. Literally.
As he chews on the cake with an open mouth, he turns to Kaidoh. "It's your lucky day, it's not sweet at all."
"Close your mouth when you eat," Kaidoh says automatically. "It's disgusting." He lifts the cake to his mouth and takes a small, polite bite. He's kind of surprised to find that Momoshiro is telling the truth. It doesn't taste half bad, a little bitter, and with a kick of spice. It reminds him of his father's black coffee in the mornings before he goes to work.
He takes another bite, so that his cake now simply reads, eatharte. After swallowing, he concedes, "It's better than most cakes."
Momoshiro is undecided about the taste. He's had some really delicious cake in his life before. One time, during his birthday, he had a three-tiered chocolate cake. It had this secret filling inside of it that was absolutely delicious. Momoshiro ate the entire thing, and he hit anyone who would come near it. Well, he was five, he couldn't really be blamed. Nevertheless, the taste stuck with him for years. He's definitely had better.
Yet somehow, the taste isn't that awful. He would rather avoid drinking coffee when he can, but can tolerate it to a certain extent. Eating a coffee cake is bitter, and it makes his left eye twitch in response, but it fills his stomach up with a nice soft feeling. A warm feeling. Kind of like pulling a blanket over himself on a cold day, sitting near his grandma's fireplace, and holding a cup of hot chocolate. It feels fuzzy, and Momoshiro chews slowly, wondering why cake would make him feel fuzzy.
"I've had better," he finally replies. The taste still lingers on his taste buds, even after he swallows the dry piece of cake.
Momoshiro glances over at Kaidoh, who is taking out careful little bites, and he starts to think; has he ever offered food to Kaidoh before? There's been many, many times that he has escaped to Kaidoh's classroom (they're right next to each other!), and then stole some of his lunch—but Momoshiro can't remember a time if Kaidoh has ever eaten his food. Not that he cooks or anything, but as long as he owns it, it's his.
It's kind of weird, like this. Sitting on the swings with Kaidoh on Christmas Eve, eating bitter cake. Momoshiro's throat suddenly feels dry. It's probably because of the cake. Probably.
"Want to finish eating this up inside my house?" The words have left his mouth before Momoshiro even understands the severity of his question.
The heat reaches Kaidoh's ears this time, and he nearly drops his cake on the ground.
"Uh..." he stammers. He can't really imagine being in Momoshiro's house. Sure, he's thought about it before, and usually followed up those thoughts with an extra long run, but he's never thought about actually doing it. He's gone over before a couple times, for tennis club stuff, or once to drop off a textbook that Momoshiro had absent-mindedly left in the clubroom, but he'd always stood outside, leaving a decent amount of distance between himself and the door, and he'd never lingered longer than necessary.
"Yeah. Okay," he agrees, trying to sound like the proposition doesn't faze him at all, because he can't disagree; it would be stranger for him to say that he just wants to sit outside like this, side by side. And Momoshiro's house is probably warm. And maybe Kaidoh can find a wall in there to bang his head against repeatedly.
To prevent himself from saying anything else, Momoshiro stuffs his face with the last of the slice of cake, forcing himself to keep quiet and swallow that nasty stuff. It suddenly feels warm, on this winter night, and Momoshiro doesn't like it. He also doesn't like how he invited Kaidoh in his home. Sure … any other day he probably wouldn't mind at all, but right now it was sort of … weird. Strange. It was Christmas and neither of them had something to do.
At least Kaidoh didn't have a stupid date with a girl. That makes him feel a little better.
It takes great effort swallowing all that cake in his mouth, but he manages, and he's pretty sure Kaidoh has been looking at him as if he were some kind of hamster, fastening up. But Momoshiro is avoiding Kaidoh's eyes, for now—they're weird. They look darker than normal. It's probably because there isn't much light around them anyways.
Momoshiro clears his throat. "Okay, let's go then." He stands up, box of cake in his hand, and the other reaches for his neck to adjust his scarf. Except, he's not wearing it anymore, Kaidoh is. He shifts his eyes to sneak a peek at the snake. It still looks sloppy on Kaidoh, and stupid, but he hasn't thrown it off like it's infested with fleas and parasites. Which is kind of amazing, actually. Maybe Kaidoh just likes knitted scarves.
It could also be that he's really cold. The tips of Kaidoh's ears are as red as his cheeks; Kaidoh should really learn how to dress himself better for the winter. It's almost like he's blushing, and that makes everything even weirder. Momoshiro tears his own eyes away from Kaidoh and starts trudging through the snow.
Kaidoh finishes up his own piece of cake and follows after Momoshiro. He feels like he's got cotton stuffed in his throat because he can't make any words come out, not that he can think of anything to say anyway. So he just walks next to Momoshiro silently, hands in his pockets for warmth and because he doesn't trust them right now, not when Momoshiro's right there for him to grab.
After walking for only a minute, that's when the first snowflake lands on the tip of Momoshiro's nose. He stops to look up at the sky; it's a misty grey, there's little flakes of snow dancing everywhere.
When Momoshiro stops, Kaidoh stops too, but he's not looking at the sky. He's busy staring at Momoshiro in the middle of the snowy night, and he can't seem to look anywhere else. He feels his insides swooping and dropping; they're a complete mess.
Momoshiro lifts his free hand—the one with no glove on it—and his palm faces the sky, fingers slightly stretched, catching a few snowflakes as it lands in his hand. They dissolve quickly from the warmth of his skin, leaving little smudges of water. It really does feel like Christmas. Momoshiro looks to the side at Kaidoh, who stares at him like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes wide and frightened. At least he's not alone anymore tonight.
"Hey Kaidoh," he calls out. "Merry Christmas!" Momoshiro snickers at him before looking ahead of himself once more, and he starts making his way back home. He makes sure to get some snow on Kaidoh's shoes as he walks by him.
The walk home doesn't take long, it lasts for about 45 seconds before Momoshiro is standing in front of his home. He knows it's precisely 45 seconds, because he's been counting in his head to fill up the awkward silence between them. Kaidoh is being extremely submissive today, and not even the snow on his shoes threw him into a fit of rage of punches and kicks. Strange. Momoshiro feels strange too.
He looks at the dark windows of his home. "No one's there right now, they're all out," he explains to Kaidoh. Though explaining that they'd be alone at his home suddenly gives Momoshiro goosebumps; who in their right mind would want to be left alone with that snake? Insane people. Lonely people with not much of a selection in friends to hang out with. He sighs and walks up to his doorstep, with Kaidoh right behind him. He takes out his house key and opens up the door. While already kicking off his shoes, he turns on the light, then starts undressing himself.
"Want something to drink?" asks Momoshiro after it has been one minute and 50 seconds since they spoke. He closes the door behind Kaidoh, already in his regular clothing. Kaidoh doesn't really have much to take off, except for his scarf. Which he hasn't taken off yet. Momoshiro stares at him pointedly, with the box of cake under his arm.
Kaidoh looks at Momoshiro, and feels a bit like his whole body is frostbitten, like he's gone numb, but he isn't even cold anymore. In fact, Momoshiro's house seems to envelop him in warmth. It's nice, but strange, and Momoshiro is looking at Kaidoh like he knows just how strange it is, which makes Kaidoh feel like he's got electrical currents running through him, like at any moment something will spark and everything will go up in flames.
He says, "I guess if you're drinking something then I will too," because he knows it would be rude to refuse, but this isn't some kind of holiday get together and Momoshiro isn't his host and being polite with Momoshiro isn't natural. But the other option would be to fight with him and though Kaidoh wants to, he's kind of terrified what might happen now if he does. Sparks? Fire? Something worse?
Seeing that Kaidoh isn't really getting the hint, Momoshiro sighs and steps forwards, hand reaching out to his neck to take off the scarf.
Kaidoh flinches backwards and hisses, "What the hell!?" The electrical current running through his body spits out sparks, threatening to short-circuit.
A bit taken aback by Kaidoh's outburst, Momoshiro drops his hand and he raises an eyebrow at Kaidoh. "What's wrong with you? Got frostbite or something?"
Momoshiro tries once more, this time more sternly, and his hand grabs the end of the scarf. "You're still wearing it, idiot. It's mine, you know." He then tugs at it, throwing it up in the air so that it flies around Kaidoh's head until it's safe and sound back in his own hands. It still feels warm. He hangs it up next to his winter coat, then swiftly turns his head away from Kaidoh, refusing to look at him right now. Why is he being so jumpy all of the sudden? Is it because it's his first time being inside of his house? No one could be that nervous ...
Then again, they were alone. And it's Christmas. And Momoshiro glances back at Kaidoh again, wondering why he even agreed to come. Wondering why he's even in his neighborhood to begin with. It doesn't feel like a coincidence. Not today. Everything has been a perfect set-up for a romantic night at his home. From the cake, to his parents leaving him alone, to meeting at the swings, and going back home and …
Momoshiro grunts, ignores Kaidoh, and makes a dash for the kitchen; this is not romantic. There's nothing romantic about being with Kaidoh. He sets the box on the kitchen counter and opens up one of the cabinets to take out two glasses. Yeah, if it was a girl, it would be romantic. But Kaidoh is a guy, not to mention a grumpy guy who is way too jumpy at the moment. He goes to the fridge to take out some orange juice and fills up the glasses. Yeah, it's not romantic at all. It's … two guys hanging out. Or something like that. He takes out two plates from the cabinet and puts on a slice of cake on both of them.
This would have been so much better if he had met Tachibana's sister. Now that would have been an opportunity. Not stupid Kaidoh. Stupid Kaidoh being stupid and standing there stupidly as if he's a popsicle and frozen to the ground. This is stupid. Why is Kaidoh being so damn weird? Sure, it sounds romantic, but it's not. Nothing could ever happen between them that would be romantic.
It's just some cake and drinks. That's it. Then he won't have spent Christmas alone, and then he'll kick Kaidoh out on the streets. He can go back to his stupid running.
But Momoshiro's throat feels dry as he stares over the counters at Kaidoh, who hasn't even really moved from his spot. He really does look cold. Momoshiro quickly grabs his glass and chugs half of it down to refresh himself, and maybe find his voice again.
"Come get your stuff," he almost sneers at Kaidoh. It's kind of hard to explain, but seeing Kaidoh so weird right now makes Momoshiro feel pissed at him. Pissed it's not a girl or something like that. But he's over thinking this way too much; he should be happy he's not alone. And Kaidoh hasn't yet punched him, so that's a good thing.
Though he'd rather get punched, than see Kaidoh not doing anything and being all nervous in his house.
"Stop being so damn nervous. It's just my house. You've seen it before," Momoshiro says with a sigh. Better to get this over with. Then maybe they can actually have some fun. Maybe this won't be the worst Christmas ever.
"I'm not nervous, you moron!" Kaidoh growls, but his voice has an edge to it that he doesn't recognize. "I'm just..." He looks for some excuse, something to explain away the weirdness he'd been trying so futilely to hide. His gaze lands on the glass of juice. "I'm just thirsty," he finishes, and grabs the glass and takes a large gulp.
"Idiot," Momoshiro mumbles against the cold tip of the glass. His eyes travel over to the thermometer hanging on the wall, and it reads 11 °C. Meaning, really cold still. His parents must have turned it down when they left, that's kind of really cruel—did they forget he was still at home?
"Are you cold still?" Momoshiro decides to ask. He's doing alright himself, though it is starting to get a little cold. He's got a kotatsu in his room though, a small one he got from his parents three years ago for Christmas. It's been a pleasant gift.
Kaidoh shrugs, not wanting to show weakness in front of Momoshiro. Or in this case, the consequences of his less than suitable winter wardrobe. "It's not too bad," he says. It's better than still being outside at any rate. If he were moving he's sure he'd be just fine. But moving isn't really in the cards for him right now; he feels like all his limbs have been replaced with heavy plywood. He thinks back to his original plan: just drop the scarf and run. It had seemed so simple. Why did Momoshiro always make everything complicated?
Momoshiro concludes Kaidoh is a lying sack of shit. "Take your plate, let's go to my room," he says. Acting completely nonchalant, like it doesn't faze him to have Kaidoh up in his room, Momoshiro grabs his cake and juice, then starts to walk out of the kitchen, towards the staircase.
What?! Kaidoh blinks after Momoshiro before grabbing his plate and glass, because as with everything Momoshiro says to him, he takes this as a challenge and somehow that gives him the drive to follow after him rather than flee out the front door. He feels a bit like he's about to wake up in an emergency room, having passed out in a snowdrift somewhere, and this will have all been a very weird hypothermic hallucination.
But Momoshiro looks too annoyingly real for this to be a dream. Kaidoh isn't sure if that's a good or bad thing.
Ignoring whether or not Kaidoh is actually following him, Momoshiro walks up the steps, and he listens to a second pair of feet ascending them as well. At least Kaidoh hasn't bolted out yet. That would really make him a loser. And Momoshiro is a loser for inviting him in his room voluntarily. Any other day, he'd have laughed at the thought, but yet here he is, standing in front of his room, door closed, cake and juice in hand, and a Mamushi creeping up on him.
"Don't step on my CDs," says Momoshiro. He knows his room is a mess, the blankets on his bed are a mess, there's probably CDs sprawled across the floor, and suddenly he wishes he had cleaned up or something. He hadn't expected anyone to come over, so there's a bunch of crap lying on the floor still. He slides the door open and uses his elbow to turn on the light switch, with his hands otherwise preoccupied.
There is, as he had said, CDs on the floor. Momoshiro had been listening to some new idol group before his parents called him down. He kicks some of them under his bed as he walks by them, to pave way for Kaidoh. Quickly he scans the room if there isn't anything out in the open that'll embarrass the hell out of him, but thankfully, there's nothing. Not that Kaidoh could ever embarrass him. There's a small square table in the middle of his room; his dear kotatsu. It's right next to his bed as well. He puts down his cake and glass, then shuffles underneath the blanket, and turns the thing on. At least it will be warm this way.
Momoshiro has had people come over into his room before, the last person had probably been Eiji. But Eiji is fun, bubbly, and energetic. This time its Kaidoh in his room, something which he thought would never happen, but there he is, standing as stiff and awkward as a statue. This is nothing like the time Eiji came over. Momoshiro doesn't know whether that's a good or bad thing, but it's probably a bad thing—it's Kaidoh after all.
"Sit," he commands to Kaidoh. He pushes some dirty socks underneath the bed to make room for Kaidoh to sit on the other side of the kotatsu. He leans his arms on the edge of the bed, watching Kaidoh carefully.
Kaidoh looks around Momoshiro's room like he's in a museum, afraid to step anywhere or touch anything. But Momoshiro told him to sit, so Kaidoh does, but he doesn't look at Momoshiro.
Instead, he continues scanning the room, trying to find something else to focus on and sees... his face? What is his face doing on Momoshiro's nightstand? Kaidoh narrows his eyes at it, and then recognizes the picture and something in his chest flips over and pulls taut. He feels warm. Almost too warm.
He stretches out his leg under the kotatsu and feels it collide with Momoshiro's and he immediately pulls it back and blushes. "Sorry," he mumbles. And then, "Idiot." And then, he asks, "Why do you have that stupid picture of us?"
Ah crap, he did have something in his room that would embarrass him after all. Momoshiro tries to look dignified, and cool, and slick, and not nervous or embarrassed, and his throat starts to close up.
"Because I'm in it, duh," he replies with nerves of steel. Truth be told, that picture captured the best day of his life, and he likes to look at it when he goes to bed. It reminds him of winning the nationals, and feeling proud, and happy, and for once Kaidoh is feeling happy too, and they're not punching each other, but instead are celebrating, and in that small glass frame, they're happy together forever. It's a frozen piece of happiness.
Which sounds like a line he stole from his sister's dating games, and he gags a little. He slowly reaches out for his plate, and drags it across the table towards him, avoiding Kaidoh's eyes.
"You have that picture too, stupid," he then deflects his embarrassment. And it's not a stupid picture.
"Shut up," Kaidoh says, and reaches for his own plate as well, so that they're both awkwardly pushing plates around on the table top like some bizarre game of air hockey. "At least I don't have mine framed, moron." Which is true; Kaidoh keeps his where no one can see it but him, hiding the happy memory like a secret.
"What, where do you keep it then?" asks Momoshiro, feeling a little bit insulted. Winning the nationals together deserves to be framed and paraded around like a gem. Even when he pushes the frame face-down when his sister walks in, or his mother … or anyone else.
Okay, so Momoshiro doesn't really want other people to see it. But that's because it's embarrassing, and he's humble and mild-mannered, of course he wouldn't arrogantly show it off all the time. Just … when he's alone, and going to bed. He starts chewing on his coffee cake to get his mind to stop rambling.
"I forgot where I put mine," Kaidoh lies, and takes another gulp of juice. He still feels warm up to his ears, and when he shifts his legs again, his knee brushes past the heater. "That's really hot," he says. "The kotatsu, I mean."
"Well, then don't touch it, you idiot," snorts Momoshiro. "And stop moving. It's not a big kotatsu, it's only meant for one person." Momoshiro wonders if Kaidoh has ever been under one; he seems like the kind of guy who would purposely keep himself cold. Like he did this evening. Speaking of …
"So, why are you in my neighborhood again?" Half-naked?
Kaidoh's voice stalls out. He isn't sure what to say...
I've been running here for a while? No. That would sound like he's been stalking Momoshiro, and Kaidoh definitely hasn't been stalking Momoshiro.
I just felt like running in your neighborhood on Christmas Eve? Again, it sounds like Kaidoh is obsessed, and Kaidoh isn't really sure what he's feeling, but he's pretty sure it's not obsession. That would mean he... and he definitely doesn't. At least, he doesn't think he does. Oh crap, maybe he does.
I forgot your house was in this neighborhood? Then Momoshiro would just think Kaidoh is an idiot. And Kaidoh kind of feels like one, at the moment, with his warm ears and warm cheeks and inability to do anything but look at his stupid slice of cake, but Kaidoh isn't stupid enough to forget where Momoshiro lives. He'd never forget that.
He ends up saying, "My training route changes sometimes," which is vague enough to be safe.
Momoshiro takes his glass and places the edge of it against his lips. His eyes dart over towards Kaidoh, his eyebrows lowered down into a frown. "... On Christmas? You don't have anything else to do?" Like go on stupid dates with stupid girls, and then scare them off? He takes a small sip of his juice, but he's not thirsty, yet at the same time his throat feels very dry.
"What's wrong with running on Christmas? It's just another day," Kaidoh says, trying to sound like he hadn't even paid attention to the calendar, hadn't had the date marked and circled as a deadline to finish the scarf for the past three weeks.
Momoshiro shrugs. "I don't know, I thought maybe you were out with some girl or something." Ah, he didn't really mean to say that. He doesn't care what Kaidoh does on Christmas. And it's not like Kaidoh could ever score a date. Stupid. He blows a few bubbles inside of his orange juice as he takes another sip. This time, it's his knee that bumps against Kaidoh's on accident, but he doesn't pull back like an idiot like Kaidoh would. Instead, he pretends he doesn't notice.
Kaidoh snorts, "Girls are dumb." He suddenly worries that he's implying that Momoshiro is somehow not dumb, since he's here with him instead of out with one of them, so he adds, "Not as stupid as you though," and knocks Momoshiro's knee right back, because it's totally not weird for him either.
Grunting a little, Momoshiro pushes his knee back against Kaidoh, turning it into a childish and stupid competition between the two. "That's only 'cause you scare 'em off in the first place. Idiot. Of course you wouldn't be out on a date with someone. Who'd want to date you? I'd feel bad for the poor bastard. Girl, I mean. Does that make her a bastardis? Or a bastardnette?" Momoshiro is grasping for things to say here, his mind isn't really making any sense right now. All he can think about is making fun of Kaidoh, and the warmth touch of their legs.
"Whatever it is, it makes you stupid. You're as dateless as I am." And that is actually, not as disappointing as Momoshiro would like to believe. It's not. He's kind of relieved, actually. And he doesn't even know why. Relieved because at least some girl isn't stuck with Kaidoh because he'd totally scar her, or traumatize her date? Probably. Yeah, he'll go with that. He's relieved Kaidoh isn't scaring girls.
Only Momoshiro could put up with Kaidoh.
Kaidoh glares at Momoshiro and pushes against his leg, because it's the closest he can get to hitting him without flinging plates everywhere and lunging across the table, and although Momoshiro's room is already kind of a mess, Kaidoh isn't that terrible of a houseguest to make it even more of one.
"I could get a date if I wanted to," he retorts. "If I had someone that I liked." He's still glaring at Momoshiro, but suddenly looks away as he says that. "And I don't look scary, you asshole." He kicks his leg out at Momoshiro under the table.
Momoshiro flicks his big toe against Kaidoh's knee. "As if you could ever like someone. It probably has to wear animal ears and a tail for you to like it." Then he pompously grabs for Kaidoh's cake, takes it off his plate, and bites a huge chunk out of it with his mouth. That's what he gets. No cake for him.
"And you do look scary. If I didn't see you wearing that bandana on your head, knowing it was you, I'd have called the cops because there was some kind of weird predator running around in our neighborhood." Momoshiro throws his free hand up in the air. "Crazy!"
"Dumbass," Kaidoh snarls. "I don't look like a predator! And I don't like that, don't be gross!" For some reason his mind gives him a mental image of Momoshiro dressed up as a cat, collar with a bell and all, and he starts choking and grabs for his glass of juice, downing the rest of it in one go.
Momoshiro drops the cake onto the table, then pulls his legs out of the kotatsu, and he leans one knee on top of it, jabbing it into his own plate, and almost knocking off his juice.
"Yes, you look exactly like a predator!" he says. Momoshiro then reaches for Kaidoh's shirt and pulls him close, then he uses his hands to pinch Kaidoh's cheeks to pull them apart. "See! Scary looking!" Using the moment to correct Kaidoh's creepiness, his fingers let go of his cheeks, and then he squishes them together so that Kaidoh is making pouty lips at him. With his thumbs he lifts up the corners of Kaidoh's lips. "Now, if you smile like this, it'd be a lot better."
"Don't touch my face, you fucking moron," Kaidoh growls, yanking Momoshiro's hands away. But it's too late, he's already bright red.
Momoshiro sits there, half on the table, staring at Kaidoh. He blinks. "Well, uhh, you're not supposed to blush at it. It makes you look …" Really non-threatening at all, but Momoshiro can't seem to get the words out, because Kaidoh's red face is actually the opposite of scary. It's quite … endearing. And that's not something he should be thinking about Kaidoh, so he growls at him.
"Stop blushing!" And looking so squishable! Momoshiro squishes Kaidoh's cheeks together once more. "Look scary again!" This is Kaidoh, who is supposed to look menacing and threatening, not meek and embarrassed. He rubs Kaidoh's cheeks to get him to look weird. Anything is better than acknowledging his flushed cheeks.
Kaidoh slaps Momoshiro's hands away and then socks him in the chin. "Idiot," he hisses, but finds that he doesn't feel angry. Just more confused than ever, and instead of thinking about how pissed off he should be, he's just thinking about Momoshiro's hands and how soft and warm they felt against his face and how he'd really like to pull them back there again. Fuck, he thinks. This is not good at all. And he's probably still blushing up to his ears. Fucking Momoshiro.
Momoshiro doesn't know what shocks him more; the blow to his chin, or Kaidoh blushing even more, until his entire face is cherry red. He stares at him dumbly, jaw hanging wide open, and the glass of juice gets knocked off by his hand as he claws at the table for stability. The juice spills everywhere.
"What's wrong with you?!" Momoshiro asks. Why is Kaidoh so damn red? Wait, maybe he got a fever while running outside in the cold. That could happen, right? Oh—what should be do!? Throw him in his bed? Call an ambulance? Force him to go home? Let him stay the night?
"Are you sick or something?" Wanna stay the night? He doesn't want Mamushi to perish in the streets wearing nothing but stupid shorts and a dumb tank top.
"I'm fine!" Kaidoh protests, feeling anything but. He feels impossibly warm now. His palms are all sweaty. His pulse is thudding like sneakers on asphalt. "I'm fine," he repeats, but his body disagrees.
Momoshiro can't remember what the number is for the hospital, he's coming up with nothing but a blank. "I … uhh … are you—do you smell that?" A sudden burning stench fills his nose, and Momoshiro scrunches up his face as he smells it. Where is it coming from, and why?
When his eyes land on the empty glass on the table, he knows in an instant what it is, and at that time, he can hear the crackle of electricity fizzle throughout the heater underneath the table. Momoshiro's eyes grow large, but he stops thinking. Instead he pulls Kaidoh out of the table, grabbing a fistful of his tank top and almost ripping it off as he yanks him with him, and they topple over onto the safety his bed. The kotatsu hisses and crackles some more, and all the lights in his room suddenly shut off. It's deadly quiet, except for his very fast breathing, and the thrumming of Kaidoh's heartbeat against his ear, and they're completely engulfed in darkness.
The kotatsu short circuited. And Momoshiro feels like he's just escaped death, all his insides are tingly and flipping and his heart is threatening to burst out of his chest. Or maybe that's Kaidoh's, because he's pressed up against him; Momoshiro had pulled him close to protect him—something which he hadn't even noticed. And something which he still doesn't notice. There's too much blood rushing to his head to think straight.
Kaidoh feels a bit like maybe now he is sick. Because this certainly can't be actually happening. He can't actually be on Momoshiro's bed, pressed up against him in the dark like two strips of velcro locked together, feeling his breath come in hot bursts against the side of his face. No, this can't be happening. It's not real. Because if it is, Kaidoh's sure he will die. He feels his chest tightening. It's hard to breathe. It takes him a moment to realize that it's because Momoshiro is holding him so very tightly. Part of Kaidoh wants to let him, but another much smarter and more rational part of him tells him that he needs to leave, and leave now. He shoves at Momoshiro's chest, pushing him away. Stop touching me! he thinks desperately. Just don't!
Feeling the air being pushed out of him, Momoshiro backs off and lets go of Kaidoh. "Jerk, what was that for!" he snaps at him. He rubs at his chest; it's kind of throbbing where Kaidoh pushed him. He put too much force behind it, that's for sure. He tries to look at Kaidoh, but it's so dark and he can't see anything at all. He'll have to do some explaining to his parents when they get back home.
"Where are you," asks Momoshiro. He reaches out his hand and fumbles around looking for Kaidoh's position. He knows it's still on the bed, because he can hear him breathe, and he can feel the weight pressed down onto the mattress. It's kind of scary like that.
Kaidoh feels a finger suddenly jab into his mouth and he squawks, sitting bolt upright on the bed. "Asshole!" he growls, and punches into the darkness.
It hits Momoshiro's shoulder. "Don't punch me!" he yells back, then throws a first into the darkness as well, aiming for that small shadowy figure sitting across him. Except he misses, and hits nothing but air.
"This is stupid, let me fix this," grumbles Momoshiro. He crawls across the bed on his hands and knees. And at one point, he thinks he's crawling over Kaidoh, but isn't quite sure. Is that his leg? Whatever it is, it's in the way.
"Move your leg, Kaidoh," he says, pushing at it.
Kaidoh lets out a yelp so high-pitched probably only dogs can hear it as Momoshiro's hand crushes against his lap. That is not his leg! That is definitely not his leg! Kaidoh throws both his hands out and shoves until he hears Momoshiro topple off the bed. Then he scrambles up in the darkness and tries to find the door again. He knocks into a table and hears something fall over and crash on the floor. It sounds like broken glass but he doesn't stop. He can't stop moving now, not when he's so mortified and confused and really hates Momoshiro and just wants to run forever.
Momoshiro tries to stand up after Kaidoh so rudely pushed him off the bed, but then yelps in pain as he feels shards of glass stab his hand. Abort mission to stop Kaidoh. New mission; make sure hand doesn't fall off. Oh fuck, it hurts.
Kaidoh finds the door and pulls it open. Then he dashes down the stairs, practically leaps into his shoes and runs out the front door, not bothering to look back. He doesn't want to stop. He can't stop. He doesn't want to think about how Momoshiro's hand felt, or how close he was, or how it made him feel, but he can't help it. He feels sparks all over his body, like it wasn't just the kotatsu that caught fire.
It isn't until he's already ten blocks away that he remembers the scarf in his pocket. Well, he can't go back now. He probably can't even look Momoshiro in the eye again.
Momoshiro is left whimpering in the darkness, pulling out little tiny shards of glass from the palm of his hand. Luckily, there's no blood. At least, he doesn't think there is. He does feel something wet against the floor though, but that might be the juice. He takes out his cellphone from his pocket with his uninjured hand and uses it to light up the room, and inspects his hand; it's fine. Just a few light scratches.
Angrily, he then sends a text message to Kaidoh's phone.
I'm calling the cops to let them know a predator is running around like an idiot in my neighborhood.
Even though Kaidoh has been running for blocks now, it isn't helping the feelings go away. He still feels tingling all over him, like he's buzzing with unwanted energy. Vibrating, really. Vibrating in his shorts.
Kaidoh stops running and stuffs his hand into his pocket. He pulls out his phone which is buzzing with a new text message. He looks at it and his free hand clenches into a fist.
I hate you, he types as a reply.
It couldn't be further from the truth.