I guess last chapter was confusing. So you all know, Misaki and Akihiko have not yet gone to the museum (that is what they will do THIS chapter). Last chapter Takahiro was asking Akihiko to take Misaki, because he is going out of town.
I got the idea for this chapter and the next one from a novel I read a long time ago. I don't recall what it was, but I still can't take full credit for it.
As always, your reviews keep me writing even when I know I should be practicing. Thank you! Every single one makes me incredibly happy.
This is the longest chapter I've ever written by several thousand words, so don't read if you don't have time.
Chapter Nine
Akihiko rolled over onto his stomach and groaned.
A whole week.
An entire week he had waited for this day, and now that it had come he was nervous as hell.
Today was the beginning of his weekend with Misaki. As excited as he was, the his eagerness had it's negative points too. The past twenty years of his life, he hadn't ever really anticipated something with such intensity. Sure, he thought that he got excited about things, but no. He now knew what it truly meant to look forward to something. It was a feeling he had never experienced, and to be honest, he didn't like. It made him feel jittery and nervous, completely distracting him from getting his work done. And he really needed to finish his manuscript. Or else.
If it came to it, he was more than willing to drop everything for Misaki. However, after some harsh and rather convincing— and by convincing he meant threatening— words from his editor, he decided that it would be best if he at least attempted to finish his manuscript.
But… that didn't work.
He tried to write, he honestly did. It was just that the need to be with Misaki was overwhelming, rendering him incapable of accomplishing any specific task.
He pushed his chest off the bed to look at the clock on the bedside table.
Only ten more hours until his date with Misaki.
But what if Misaki didn't want to see him? Even though the boy seemed fine when they last parted, further reflection on his part might have changed his mindset. And technically, Akihiko supposed that he did force himself a little on him. Yes, he'd have to tread carefully tonight so as not to frighten the boy. As much as it would pain him, Akihiko wouldn't lay a finger on Misaki until he knew that it was alright.
After seeing his brother out the front door, Misaki made a cup of tea and took a seat by the window. Takahiro's train left early, so Misaki had gotten up early to make him breakfast. But now he was alone, and that made him feel… well, lonely.
Sure, every once in awhile solitude was a nice change of pace, but the past week he had depended on Takahiro to keep him sane. Without him, he wouldn't have been able to get his mind off a certain silver haired man. This preoccupation with the man annoyed him. For some reason, he couldn't get Akihiko out of his head; a picture of his face always popped up in his brain at the worst times. But sometimes, it wasn't just his face that Misaki saw. Sometimes, Akihiko was doing other things, things that Misaki would never be able to admit to thinking about.
And now that his brother was gone, Misaki wouldn't have to be constantly making Takahiro food, cleaning his dishes, picking up his messes… Really, the list of things that Misaki did for his brother was quite extensive.
It wasn't that Takahiro was incapable of taking care of himself; it was just that cleaning and cooking was the only way that Misaki knew how to repay the man for, well, everything he had sacrificed.
Taking another sip of tea, Misaki watched the wind viciously rustle some tree branches. It looked very cold outside. Multitudes of dark and angry clouds spanned the entire sky, leaving no sun out to warm the ground.
As he blew across the surface of the tea to cool it down, he thought of his brother. He saw Takahiro standing nest to him holding his hand, trying to keep back his tears, trying to be strong. After their parents died, they were both a mess. But Takahiro didn't let it show. He took it upon himself to take care of Misaki, even dropping out of college to get a job when they didn't have enough money to pay the bills.
But even though the man put on a strong face, Misaki knew that he was devestated. More than once, Misaki had caught him crying in his room. When confronted about it, Takahiro smiled and denied that anything was wrong. Misaki, even though he was only eight at the time, could tell that his brother was lying.
The way that he saw it, Takahiro had sacrificed everything to make sure his brother grew up in a normal family. Or, at least as normal as it could be.
He closed his eyes and set the mug on a nearby table, trying to ignore the cold air of the apartment. When company came over they raised the thermostat a bit, but other than that it was normally set a little lower to save on energy bills.
When he felt a shiver wrack his body, he pushed himself off the chair and grabbed a blanket from the closet. After draping it over himself, he let himself relax on the couch, scrunching up his legs. Everything felt better now; the blanket was soft and warm, making him feel safe. Content.
He closed his eyes, allowing exhaustion to draw him down. It was still relatively early; it couldn't hurt to take a small nap.
He slept for several hours longer than he had planned. After getting up and stretching, he took out his cell phone and flipped it open. No missed calls. Not surprising. The only people who ever called him were Takahiro and occasionally a friend from school.
He scrolled through the contacts until he got to Akihiko's and left his finger poised above the call button. The man had given him the number when they last saw each other, saying to call if anything came up. Misaki hesitated. Canceling was probably the best thing to do, but he couldn't force himself to press the call button.
He just groaned and threw his cellphone onto the couch, trying to ignore the little voice in his head that was screaming "bad idea." Misaki knew that it would undoubtedly be an awkward evening if he and Usagi-san were to meet up again.
Misaki mentally kicked himself. After his embarrassing black-out last time they got together, he was in no rush to see the man again. Akihiko had surely been laughing at him for a whole week now behind his sly smile.
Too late now. But, hey, he had already made a fool of himself, so it wasn't like he could humiliate himself any more tonight.
With that oh-so-comforting thought in mind, Misaki took a quick shower. After being done and dressed, he stood in the middle of the bathroom, not sure what exactly he was supposed to do next.
To pass the time, Misaki ran around his apartment cleaning. Not that everything wasn't already clean, but he decided that it couldn't hurt to wipe everything over again.
Once that was done, he did the shopping. There wasn't anything he really needed to get, but it was a good forty minute walk to the bargain-priced grocery store, and he really needed to get out and clear his head.
By the time Akihiko drove up to the Takahashi apartment, Misaki was sitting on the steps waiting. Seeing the fancy red sports car in the daytime was totally different than the obscured view he got last time.
It was sleek and shiny, maybe even a high-end GTO of some sort. But then again, Misaki really didn't know anything about cars, so he could only imagine what something this fancy would cost. But it was obvious that it was very expensive.
As Akihiko stepped out of the drivers seat, Misaki sat there and watched, thinking about how extravagant it all looked. Together, they were flashy, practically begging for attention. I guess that's what self-confidence does, Misaki thought.
The man was wearing a violet button down shirt covered by a vest and suit. On anyone else, the rather feminine color would have looked too girly, but on Akihiko it looked quite the opposite. His hair was brushed away from his forehead, falling to his neck in thick silver pieces. He looked like a complete dream, sexy and powerful.
Misaki stopped his thoughts in their tracks.
Sexy?
Since when did he think of another man as sexy? Oh no. Those types of thoughts were not appropriate for a normal Japanese male.
He forced himself to push all impure thoughts and images from his mind.
The man walked up to him with narrow eyes, mouth and jaw tight.
Still, Akihiko smiled slightly when he spoke. "You were waiting for me."
Misaki frowned. It was rather difficult to cleanse his mind of all sex-related thoughts when the man spoke like that, all low and rumbling. "I wouldn't say that I was waiting. More, I was just bored and had nothing to do."
Akihko lifted his hand as if to help the boy up, but hesitated. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah," Misaki replied, standing up.
"You wanna get something to eat before heading to the museum?"
"Ah, no, I'm fine."
"I see." Akihiko dropped his arm and looked away, becoming still and silent.
Oh, hell. Misaki subdued a groan. This was the reason why he wanted to cancel. It was just way too awkward.
"Usagi-san, if you don't want to take me, you don't have to. Don't feel obligated just because Takahiro asked you to."
Akihiko stepped away and narrowed his mouth into a fine line.
"Really, it's okay. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable," Misaki continued.
"Have I given you any indication that I don't want to go?"
"Well, no, not exactly, but—"
"Then don't assume." The words sounded angry, almost like they were being snarled.
Misaki's eyes widened. "Oh… Sorry," he whispered, slightly shocked at getting chastised.
"No, just…. Shit. I didn't mean it to sound like that." Akihiko said. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "Let's just go, okay?"
Misaki could only nod and allow Akihiko to lead him down the steps. Barely two minutes into their reunion, and the conversation was already uncomfortable and tense. He sighed. Looked like it was going to be a long night.
The museum exhibit wasn't very large. The building itself covered almost a whole block, but it was sectioned off so that only a small part was actually being operated.
A long time ago, multiple exhibits would be shown at once, but those days were long gone. People just didn't visit the museum anymore— probably a result of the war and suffering economy— so the city had cut off a majority of their funding.
Even so, the exhibit was well assembled and organized, clean and peaceful. It might actually be a nice place for a date, Misaki realized, except for the fact that Akihiko had been acting really weird.
Ever since he was picked up several hours ago, Misaki had felt like there was a huge distance placed between them. Akihiko rarely spoke, and when he did, it was out of necessity, not conversation. On top of that, he wouldn't touch Misaki. Not even a hand on the shoulder or a casual brush of arms.
But what was even weirder, he had been staring at the boy all night. Staring and… following. Wherever Misaki went, Akihiko came after. It wasn't that it freaked him out, it was just strange. Misaki wasn't used to people paying much attention to him— after all, he was a below average boy in height, academics, and looks— but Akihiko hadn't let him out of his sight once.
Misaki had tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that he didn't notice, but that just wasn't possible. As he looked into the glass casing surrounding some ancient artifacts, he could feel Akihiko's eyes boring into him.
The man was probably still confused about last week when Misaki had his embarrassing panic attack. Or maybe, Akihiko was staring because he got a chuckle every time he remembered what had happened. Either one would suck.
Misaki sighed. There was only one thing to do, and although it was completely necessary, it was gong to be awkward as hell. He hadn't wanted to bring it up again, but if this went on any longer, he was going to burst.
"So… I'm sorry about before."
"Before?"
"You know, a week ago when I was at your condo… I didn't mean to flip out on you."
"Oh," Akihiko murmured. Unfortunately, he remembered the events of that evening with shocking clarity. Every single fucking detail.
Misaki scratched a finger along the glass. "It wasn't your fault, I promise."
"Yeah, sure it wasn't my fault."
"No, really, it wasn't. I don't know why I acted like that."
Akihiko stopped in his tracks. "Are we even remembering the same night?"
"Please, just believe me," Misaki whispered, looking desperately into Akihiko eyes. "Don't blame yourself."
"What makes you think I am blaming myself for something?"
Misaki shifted awkwardly. "Well, you are, aren't you? You've been acting weird all night."
Akihiko sighed. "Blame is a strong word for how I feel. I don't blame myself for anything. It's more like I feel guilty."
"Guilty? Why?"
"Don't pretend that you don't understand." Akihiko clenched his hands into fists and tried to control his voice. "I never wanted to be the source of any of your pain. Only a few weeks of knowing you, of feeling this strongly for you, and I've already hurt you."
Hurt? Misaki put a hand on the man's arm. "You didn't hurt me. You would never hurt me." Even as he said it, Misaki realized that it was true.
The man leaned into Misaki's touch and closed his eyes, as if he was absorbing the feeling. But then he jerked away and furrowed his eyebrows. "You don't have to make me feel better."
"I'm serious."
Akihiko opened his mouth to say something, but then paused and turned away.
"Usagi-san?"
When he spoke, the sound was forced, like what he said was done through gritted teeth. "It's late. We should go now or else there won't be time to get dinner."
Misaki just nodded and followed him through the museum to the exit. Akihiko was walking quickly, and it was hard to keep up. Didn't tall people know that shorter people couldn't cover as much distance? Obviously not.
He wanted to say something, to reassure him that everything was okay, but he didn't know what.
The silence continued until they were both buckled up in their car seats.
"Where do you want to eat?"
Misaki frowned. Akihiko, for how reserved he was earlier, didn't sound angry. If anything, he seemed tense. "Um, I'm not very hungry."
"Takahiro told me to 'make sure' that you took me to dinner. So, where do you want to go?"
Misaki hesitated. "I guess… anywhere's fine then. I don't care."
"Okay," he replied, revving the engine.
"Look," Misaki said, buckling his seatbelt, "I want you to know that nothing that happened last week was your fault. I told you before, I'm not angry or anything." He felt himself blush, unable to believe what he was thinking about saying. After a big gulp of air, he gathered his courage and blurted out, "And whatever you were doing to me before I blacked out… well, I'm not saying that it was okay, but… just… don't stress. It's fine."
Akihiko looked over at him and smiled. It was just the edges of his mouth lifting up the tiniest bit, but it filled up Misaki with a warmth that he had never felt. Seeing him smile like that did something to him. He looked… beautiful? Or maybe the correct word was handsome. Men weren't beautiful.
Whatever it was, Misaki never wanted anyone else to ever see that smile. He wanted it reserved for himself only.
But then Akihiko lips widened sensually, as if his thoughts were turning dirty.
Oh no, Misaki thought. When he said "it's fine," he didn't mean anything by it. He didn't mean that it was okay for Akihiko to touch him that way again.
He looked away and sighed, cursing his stupidity. He definitely, no way, wanted to be touched like that again.
But then again, maybe if was Akihiko it would be okay. The man's hands were so gentle, and his fingers knew exactly where—
No!
Misaki shook his head viciously to expel the thoughts. Even if it was Akihiko, he didn't want that.
Probably.
A marble desk was located in the entranceway of the restaurant. One of the hosts there immediately led them to a booth in the back.
The restaurant was nice, a lot nicer than anywhere Misaki had ever been. The lighting was dimmed, giving everything a velvety appearance, but not so much that he had trouble seeing. In order not to stare at the fancy chandelier that hung from the vaulted ceilings, he examined the soft leather of the seats. It wasn't cracked and hard like most of the places he went with Takahiro.
"Have you ever been here before?"
The question startled Misaki, who was thoroughly absorbed in the fancy décor.
"Ah, no. Takahiro and I don't eat out much."
"What kind of food do you like?"
Misaki cleared his throat. "Anything's fine. I'm not too picky."
A waitress came over with two glasses of water. She set a glass down in front of Misaki then turned to Akihiko and leaned over. As she slowly put the second glass on the table, she dipped her chest down lower than necessary. Making sure that her cleavage was on display, no doubt.
But Akihiko didn't even look at her.
She coughed, trying to get his attention. When Akihiko glanced up, she jutted her hip out and introduced herself before asking, "Can I get you something to drink other than water? Beer? Or wine, perhaps?"
"I'm fine. Misaki?"
"I'm good."
She took a step closer. "Would you like me to tell you about our specials?"
"Sure."
As she talked, Akihiko looked at Misaki. He wanted the boy to look up and smile, or at least meet his eyes, but Misaki kept his gaze down on the table.
The waitress cleared her throat and twirled some hair around her finger. "You sure you don't want something to drink? Sake? A shot? We brew our own alcohol here, it's really very good—"
"We're fine, thanks."
She huffed a little and frowned before she left.
Once they were alone, Misaki opened the menu. He scanned the paper and tried not to cringe. "Ah, Usagi-san, I know that I'm supposed to pay, but I don't think I have enough…
The man didn't miss a beat. "Don't worry about it."
"I really can't afford it. I didn't think we'd be going someplace so expensive."
"Like I said, don't worry about it. It's not like I was going to let you pay anyways."
"Oh." Misaki tried to come up with a protest—more out of social courtesy than anything—but couldn't. At these prices, it wasn't like he could even pay for half a plate of noodles.
He leaned back in his seat and took the menu, tracing a metal corner, feeling Akihiko's eyes on him. Abruptly, Misaki closed it and threw it on the table. "Stop looking at me."
"Why?"
"Because," he replied, exasperated, "staring is not okay."
"People often stare at things they are fond of."
"Well, just… stop it."
Akihiko sighed and took a sip of water, letting silence stretch out between them. He nudged the menu back in the boy's direction.
"Here, decide what you want."
"Maybe we should just go back."
"Back? To your apartment? But we haven't eaten yet."
"I'm not very hungry."
"Well, order something anyway. Don't make me tell Takahiro that you bailed on me."
"That sounds like a threat."
"I think of it more as persuasion."
Misaki slowly opened the menu and glanced through. "It really is okay to stop staring at me, you know."
"Yeah. But nothing is as interesting as you."
Immediately, the boy's eyes flipped up, completely shocked at Akihiko words.
But before he could process what Akihiko had said, a cloud of perfume wafted over them. It was the waitress returning.
"What can I get you gentlemen?" she asked, standing so close to Akihiko that her hip touched his shoulder.
Misaki glared. Could the woman be any more obvious?
Akihiko seemed unperturbed, a fact that only annoyed the boy further.
"The gyoza and cucumber salad is good for me."
"Okay," she said, writing down the order on a pad of paper. She turned to Misaki. "And you?"
"The miso soup." He was shocked at how nasty he sounded.
"Anything else?" she asked, shimmying closer to Akihiko— if that was even possible. "Appetizers? Some alcohol?"
"No, that will be all," Akihiko replied calmly.
"You sure? I can get some spring rolls over in a few minutes." She was practically on top of him by now.
Misaki had just about had enough of her. "No," he hissed, shoving the menus at her. "We're fine."
She looked a little taken aback by the rude words.
Once she left, Misaki looked away, embarrassed by his mean words, unsure why he was acting like such a man-bitch. He coughed from the lingering perfume cloud.
"So, Misaki, what do you want to do after this?"
"After this? What do you mean?"
"Takahiro told me that I could come over whenever I wanted."
"Oh, really now?"
"Yep."
Misaki sighed. If Takahiro gave him permission, then there was really nothing he could do about it.
"I was thinking that after I took you back, we could do something together."
Misaki spoke slowly. "Do… something?"
The man nodded, showing that lecherous smile of his again. "Yeah, we could do whatever you want. You said that it was okay for me to touch you, so I was thinking—"
"Whoa there!" Misaki interrupted, bringing Akihiko to a halt. "I definitely did not say that it was okay!"
"Yes, you did. Just a few minutes ago in the car."
"W-well, yeah, but no, I didn't mean it like that!" he managed to sputter out.
Just then, the waitress arrived with a large tray, saving him from an awkward confrontation. When the plates were positioned down on the table, she stayed until Akihiko thanked her deliberately.
Misaki waited until she was out of hearing distance, then, "You know that she's coming onto you, right?"
"She is? I hadn't noticed."
Misaki jammed the straw into his water glass and scoffed. "Don't even try that. You'd have to be oblivious not to notice."
"I only want to look at you."
The seriousness with which he said those words hit Misaki strongly, making him feel a little uncomfortable. He forced out a laugh.
But Akihiko just sighed and rested his head on his palm. "You don't like the miso?" His eyes travelled down to the untouched bowl of soup and then back up to Misaki's face. "I can order you something else. Or you can have some of my food?"
"I'm fine."
"Then eat."
"I told you before, I'm not very hungry."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
Akihiko ate two more dumplings and then reached across the table for the small menu by the soy sauce. "Does dessert sound better for you?"
"Not now."
"But you haven't eaten anything all night."
"I had a lot for lunch."
"No, you didn't."
Misaki crossed his arms over his chest. "How would you know?"
"Misaki," Akihiko said, laying the menu back on the table, "please just eat something. For me?"
The boy felt time stand still. God, Akihiko was doing it again. Doing that thing where he made his eyes all big and sad looking. It made Misaki just want to melt into the gleaming orbs. Such a bright shade of purple. Was such a color even natural?
He forced his throat to work. "There's no way you could know what I ate for lunch."
Akihiko dropped his voice so low that it was almost inaudible. "I just know. Besides, I'm right, so it doesn't matter."
Misaki tried to come up with a response, but failed. "Oh. Okay," he said pathetically.
"Anyway," Akihko said louder, "just try to eat something, or else I'll tell Takahiro on you."
Misaki grimaced but picked up his spoon. The first bite tasted like bile in his mouth. Sour and nauseating.
But Akihiko looked pleased, so he kept sipping small spoonfulls.
They ate for several more minutes in silence. Misaki waited until the other man had cleaned his plate, then he pushed the soup away.
As if on cue, the waitress swept up to the table. And what do you know? She had re-applied her lip gloss. That mouth of hers looked like it was smeared with some high-shine oil called Pink Sparkle or Romantic Raspberry.
Disgusting.
"Is everything all right, gentlemen?" She looked right at Akihiko as she spoke. "Want some coffee or tea to finish you off? Dessert?"
The man glanced at Misaki's frowning face and said, "Ah, no, I think we are good."
"Perfect," she purred, putting the check on the table. "I'll return in a few minutes."
Misaki reached into his pocket. "Here," he said, holding out a few bills. "It's not enough to cover the whole bill, but it's all I have."
But Akihiko pushed it away. "Keep it. I told you, I wasn't going to make you pay anyway."
Misaki jammed it right back in his face. "No, seriously, take it. If I bring it back, Takahiro will be mad."
"Fine, fine," he said, taking the money and stuffing it in his pocket. He brought out a credit card and fit it into the slot at the top. Before he could close the folder, Misaki saw a small piece of paper with a name and number sitting on top of the bill.
Of course. Little miss waitress was sending some pretty clear signals. It was only natural that she'd leave her number.
He looked down at his hands. He really didn't want to see Akihiko take the slip of paper.
"Well, tonight was really… fun. Thanks," Misaki said, sliding out of the booth.
"Wait, we're not finished, are we?"
Misaki looked up. The man had such a hopeful expression on his face. Dammit. This was going to make it that much harder.
"Er, it's getting late. I should be getting home. And the restaurant is going to close soon. Curfew, you know…"
"Ah, I see," Akihiko mused, a sensual glint in his eyes. "You want to finish this up at your house, don't you?"
Misaki blushed. "There really isn't anything to finish up. Just take me home, please."
"Of course, my Misaki. You don't have to ask me twice," he replied, eyes smoldering.
Oh God. Misaki tried not to melt. Akihiko was just so… sexy when he did that. And Misaki did not think many things were sexy.
He shook his head, completely overcome with embarrassment. In a failed attempt to cover his red face, he looked at the ground as he followed the other man out of the restaurant.
The drive back to Misaki's apartment felt like it took a lifetime. The first ten minutes were the worst. He was too tense to say anything and too afraid to move his body into a more relaxed position. After all, any action would surely draw attention to himself, and attention from Akihiko was something that he definitely did not need.
He checked his phone repeatedly, not really for any reason, but it gave him something to do that would make him look busy. Kinda like when people pretend to text in public just so that they don't have to make eye contact with anyone.
But once enough time passed and it was obvious that the man had no intention of making small talk, Misaki settled down, snuggling his head as far down into his jacket as it would go. It was cold inside the car. The heater was on full blast, but it still wasn't enough to take away the chill.
Still, it was probably warmer in here than in his house. He shivered, thinking about how he'd have to spend the night alone in the cold. At least he had blankets for his bed, and lot of them. They were all soft and nice smelling.
He smiled as he stared out the window, watching everything fly by. It was dark now and very quiet. Of course, it had been dark all day from the heavy clouds, but this was different. Almost like it was the calm before the storm.
But damn, Akihiko's car was comfy. The seats were a nice pliant leather, tilted at just the right angle for him to be able to relax completely. And it was finally getting warmer in the car too. Maybe he could just stay in the car overnight. Surely, Akihiko wouldn't mind. And it was so comfy.
Soon, exhaustion had clouded his brain, pulling him down into darkness. He knew it would be a bad idea to give in and fall asleep, but he was so tired. He fought the urge, but eventually the gentle rocking motion of the car lulled him into a deep slumber.
Akihiko stood up and cracked his back after laying Misaki down on the couch. He weighed so little for his age. Even at dinner he ate practically nothing. Weren't teenage boys supposed to have an enormous appetite? But then again, Takahiro did say that Misaki never ate much, especially when he was sad or remembering his parents.
Sad? Did Akihiko make Misaki sad?
No, he told himself, Misaki wasn't sad. Frustrated, maybe. But definitely not sad.
As he pushed up his sleeves, he stood over Misaki and measured the boy's slow, quiet breaths. He was so tiny on the couch. But tiny wasn't necessarily a bad thing. As much as Misaki would protest it, his size only made him cuter.
Akihiko sat down next to him and gently shifted the sleeping body so that it was nestled in the crook of his arm.
Next to the visible strength of his body, the boy looked even smaller.
Misaki stirred and lifted his head. "Usagi-san?"
"Don't worry. Go back to sleep," he whispered, nudging him back against his body. "I'm gonna hold you. That's all."
Misaki obliged, letting his head fall back with a small sigh.
When Akihiko felt a small arm move and tuck into his side, he gently pushed back the few pieces of hair on Misaki's forehead and rested his hand there.
Peaceful.
It was all so peaceful like this.
More peaceful than he had ever experienced.
He had a stupid desire to wake Misaki up and shift a bit just so that he could feel the boy settle against him once again.
Instead, he focused on Misaki's breathing and tried to match his inhales and exhales.
So quiet now.
A vibrating in his pocket roused Akihiko from his light sleep. With a mumbled curse, he pulled out his phone and glared at the glowing screen.
"Aikawa," he growled under his breath.
Stupid woman was out to get him, always calling and texting at the worst times.
He frowned, but then realized that things could be worst. At least he had his phone in the pocket opposite of Misaki. And he supposed it really was his fault that she had to message him.
Aikawa was very adamant that his manuscript be in by tomorrow morning. It was already several weeks late, and if it wasn't completed by the extension, she'd have an aneurism.
He groaned. Why did it have to be due tomorrow? It wasn't as if his publishers would drop him if it wasn't finished. And even if they did, he was popular enough that some other company would quickly snatch him up.
But for Aikawa's sake…
He looked down at Misaki's sleeping form. The boy was all curled up in a ball against his side, snuggled into him.
Hesitantly, telling himself that Aikwaha was the devil incarnate, he began to slowly slide out from under Misaki. When he noticed a gentle tugging on the shirt, he looked down and saw a small hand fisted into the fabric.
Immediately, he sat back down. If Misaki didn't want him to leave— even unconsciously— then he wasn't going to leave. Resigning himself to his decision to stay, he leaned back and stroked Misaki's hair.
A moment passed in complete silence. But then, his phone started vibrating again.
Gritting his teeth to hold back a stream of profanities, he picked it up and read the message.
This one was angrier. He winced. A lot angrier. All caps, with multiple expletives. Aikawa could get so angry sometimes, especially when he shirked his writing duties.
It would probably be best to go home and write. But Misaki… he didn't want to leave the boy alone, especially with such a nasty storm brewing outside. As long as Misaki stayed indoors, it would be alright. Or maybe he could run home and come back with his laptop. That way, he could write and be with Misaki.
But then he still wouldn't get any work done.
There was no two ways about it: he had to go home.
He would have plenty of time to write if he left now. It was only midnight. Very dark outside and way past curfew, but there was still enough time for him to finish his manuscript.
Slowly, one by one, he uncurled the fingers from his shirt. When he attempted to stand up, Misaki made little noises in the back of his throat. They weren't quite a groan, nor were they a whine, but they just made Akihiko's heart ache that much more. He had wanted to snuggle with Misaki for so long now, and just when he finally had the chance, Aikawa has to come and ruin it.
Now that he was separated from the boy's body heat, he realized how cold it was in the room. Not unbearably so, but enough that goosebumbs covered his upper arms and legs. Rubbing his hands together warmth, he walked over to a chair and grabbed a blanket thrown over the back.
He opened it and began to lay it over Misaki. A small black bracelet on the boy's wrist caught it eye. He leaned in closer and fingered the object.
It was stretchy and elastic. Not a bracelet, but a hair tie. Funny. Misaki's hair wasn't even long enough to pull back.
Maybe it wasn't there for utilization, maybe as an accessory. Not that Akihiko thought that hair ties could ever be fashionable, but what did he know? Teenagers were always doing weird things.
He sighed and covered Misaki with the blanket, making sure that every inch of skin was nice and wrapped up.
Suddenly remembering, he dug out Misaki's money from his pocket and placed it under the edge of a vase nearby.
Feeling his phone vibrating again, he grimaced and made his way to the door, not even bothering to check who it was.
"Goodnight, Misaki," he whispered, knowing that his words wouldn't be heard.
The door was unlocked, just like when he carried Misaki into the apartment. It annoyed him. What kind of idiot didn't lock the door? They were gone for several hours, plenty of time for someone to break in. Or even worse, what if someone had broken in while Misaki was still inside? The boy would be dead meat if he was ever attacked. Almost every man would be stronger than him, or at least bigger in weight and height. He'd be taken down in an instant.
Akihiko locked the door from the inside and then pulled it closed once he was on the outside steps. It wasn't the dead bolt, which would offer the most protection, but at least it was better than nothing.
Immediately, freezing winds assaulted his body. When did it get so cold outside? He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and looked up to the sky. It was so dark outside, but the sky was an odd shade of grey. Probably clouds, he thought. He could practically see them swirling around, preparing themselves for an upcoming storm.
Misaki pulled himself up from the couch, completely dazed, but kept the blanket wrapped over his body. It was warm and fuzzy, but his face exposed to the air was cold. Pulling his head under, he curled up into a ball and closed his eyes.
He debated going back to sleep. It was dark in the room, so it must still be night. And the couch was so—
Wait!
Couch? Why was he on the couch?
Wasn't he in Akihiko's car? Yeah, he was.
… and then he fell asleep.
Misaki mentally slapped himself. What kind of loser falls asleep in the car on a… date? No, it wasn't a date. Not at all.
He got off the couch and stretched. Groggily, he wandered back to his room, keeping the blanket pulled tightly around him.
He wondered what Takahiro was doing. Why hadn't he called? Normally, Takahiro would call whenever he was away, even it he was just coming home late from work.
Or maybe he was enjoying having alone time with Minami. Misaki realized that he must have intruded on their time together a lot. It must be hard for them to, ahem, have fun while there was another person in the apartment.
But still, Takahiro should have called. Misaki felt his pockets, looking for his phone. It wasn't there. He padded back to the living room. Not on the couch either.
He groaned when he realized where he left it.
The car. He left it in the car.
He could just wait 'till tomorrow morning and give Usagi-san a call.
Wait. No. That wouldn't work. He couldn't give a call from a phone he didn't have. And it wasn't as if he had the number memorized.
Takahiro had probably left him several worried messages by now. It could be days until he got his phone back, especially if Akihiko didn't notice that it was left in his car. Takahiro would blow his lid if he didn't pick up.
He groaned and looked at the clock. There was still plenty of time until morning. Maybe he should just go get it back now. It wasn't as if there was that much of a difference if he went now or later. Besides, he was wide awake; he couldn't go back to sleep now anyway. All signs pointing to yes, he grabbed a scarf from the closet and walked to the door.
It was locked. Weird. He rarely locked the door. It wasn't like he had anything worth stealing.
The moment he stepped outside, he felt his fingers lock up from the cold. Damn, it felt freezing out. But a part of him liked it. Liked the feeling of being rebellious. It was dark and past curfew, but he never paid any attention to curfew. And he'd always been fine before.
Grimacing, he put one foot in front of the other.
It wasn't that far to Usagi-san's condo.
He'd be there in no time.
No time at all.
I think that I'm better at writing shorter chapters. When it's longer, I just don't have the energy to edit it all satisfactorily, so my sentences come out awkward and choppy. My apologies.
I've never been to Japan. Please excuse my ignorance if this is not what a Japanese restaurant is like. I know nothing about Japanese culture. I am aware that this would most likely not happen in Japan, but I have nothing else to go on. Sorry. :(
This chapter might be confusing, tell me and I'll clear anything up. :)
I have the next chapter mostly written, so if you guys give me a lot of inspiration I'll update it soon. Or at least, sooner than I would update otherwise. ;)
This chapter is a little boring (and too long), but I promise, next one will be quite tumultuous. Literally.
And silly Misaki for ignoring curfew. And bad Akihiko for setting a bad example. Hmmm. I wonder if this will get them into some trouble….