Prompt fill from my newly-minted fangirl flatmate: "Akari's POV. Hirato is upset—not angry, but upset."
Only intimate acquaintances would apprehend the shift in Hirato's affect. It's an almost imperceptible nuance—more mischief imbues his carriage, more lilt underlies his tone. Outsiders might conclude that he's in uncommonly high spirits.
Akari is no outsider. To him, melancholy clings to his lover like mist.
"What's wrong?" the blond prompts, carding chary hands through raven hair.
The ensuing laugh is too artificial, even for Hirato. "Why do you think something's wrong, Akari-san?" Iciness edges a perfunctory kiss as the captain stands and slips past.
"Akari-san?" the doctor inquires, but the other man is already beyond reach.
He's convinced he misinterpreted the morning's conversation until Tsukitachi visits. Their third member is devoid of characteristic aplomb. "What's wrong with Hirato?"
"I was right then." Akari's heart twists at the conclusion.
"It's like he's trying too hard. I wonder why."
No answer presents itself, so the physician replies with his latest preoccupation. "Tsukitachi, you're a soldier, right? What do you do in an impossible situation when inaction is not an option?"
"You do what you can, Akari-chan."
Upon returning home he finds Hirato seated serenely on the sofa, wearing the same vacuous smile that's haunted him all afternoon. "How was your day, doctor?"
Akari's breath catches at the stunning facility with which his bedmate deceives. Even so, he cups the brunet's chin, obliging attentiveness. Rhinestone irises gleam behind those spectacles, but their luster lies. The doctor counters with sincerity, brushing an affectionate thumb along still-curved lips. "I've marked you, you know. I know languor settles in your shoulders when you're sleepy, that the severity of your gaze signifies the intensity of your anger. Cheerfulness manifests as lecherousness and exhaustion subdues you. When you climax, your fingers curl into my back, but not as forcefully as either of us want. And when you're like this, something's wrong. So please, don't insult my intelligence by denying it."
Silence falls between them, but that dark stare wavers not one iota. Neither does it betray. "Then I won't," Hirato says with finality. The words aren't designed to hurt; there's no mocking, no maliciousness. Nevertheless, they scrape against the blond like sands caught in a tempest. Leaving tonight would spare him a crushing slight, he realizes. Yet he leans down, wrapping careful arms around Hirato's neck and moving in a deliberate fashion meant to allow opportunity for resistance. Surprisingly, needful fingers hook through his belt loops and draw him closer in desperate embrace. Akari doesn't protest, determined to provide whatever comfort his companion will accept.
You do what you can.
The researcher's nerves are still singing from orgasm when Hirato takes his hand and nips at tingling fingertips. "Akari," he whispers through a heated breath, but its warmth ill-conceals the chill that lingers on those lips. "Thank you."
"I'll never need your gratitude." And you'll never share your trust, no matter how often I share your bed.
Later, Akari wonders when he became the sort of man who disguises truth with pretty platitudes and vague reassurances.
NBs of varying degrees of pertinence (skip them if you like):
1. If you're frustrated with your fanfiction writer because she didn't reveal what it was that Hirato was so upset over, just imagine how Akari feels when his lover leaves him in the dark. See what I did there?
2. I'm beginning to feel like these drabbles are becoming rather repetitive. (Dare I say boring?) As such, I'm soliciting your opinion about whether or not I should stop writing Karnevalesque and move on to something else. Are you tired of reading my tripe yet? You can review, PM, or vote in the poll I set up. I appreciate the feedback.
3. Insomnia = fail editing. You're likely used to that by now.
4. Bonus points if you can find the pop culture reference.
5. Page breaks and NBs eat up my words; the drabble is under 500, I swear.