Winter Secrets

oOo

See author's note at the bottom after reading.

oOo

"You sure you're busy after this, Kamijou? I'm feeling like a drink, myself."

The hesitation was only momentary. "Yes. I'm sure."

Shiratori shrugged fluidly; his eyes, an intelligent shade of hazel, twisted the frozen sunlight streaming through the windows as he tossed Hiroki a quick wink and turned away. "Suit yourself. You know you're free to call whenever though, right?"

I can't believe the odds. And yet, somehow, he could. Guys like these... guys like me... we can sniff each other out.

"I didn't know that", said the brunet with a smoothness that he was beginning to perfect with time. "For one thing, I can't call without a phone number."

An alarmingly white set of teeth flashed in a grin. "Now that's the spirit."

Shiratori Kiyoshi was six feet, two inches tall and shared Thesis Writing II with Hiroki. His t-shirt hung off his shoulders in gentle white cliffs, shielding the flex of his shoulders from the deeper brown eyes with something akin to jealousy. Hiroki could still picture them in his mind's eye, though... He saw the curve and arch of the broad back, the thudding tremble of Shiratori's arms, threaded with sweat. The thought was a pleasant one; a little too pleasant, in fact, as he reminded himself that he had good reasons for not planning to meet the man immediately after class.

Good reasons..? More like shitty reasons that I can't get away from.

There really was no getting away from Akihiko.

Not when he'd sounded like that on the phone. Not when the author could blame the reception and the cold and the allergies that Hiroki knew he did not have, but nothing could excuse the dead creases in his voice when he'd asked the brunet to come along with him for the evening.

But it's not even him anymore... it's me. I can't hold still around him when my head's so unstable. He could no longer stand the man's touch, icy but once comforting and now only bitter. The husky timbre of his voice, the broody eyes that unshuttered themselves rarely if at all... He was tired of clutching at them in his dreams, far too tired to keep it up in reality.

Can't I just be left to myself with my fantasies and wishes?

He sighed into the scratching of his pen and folded away his growing moroseness along with the slip of paper bearing the other man's phone number, taking care not to let it reach his face. There were few things he hated more than not knowing which was stronger: his mad desire to see Akihiko at all times of the day, or his compulsive need to get away once an actual meeting became imminent. It's growing harder to balance the two. ...It's growing harder to handle myself.

Damn it, I wish I could just go with Shiratori instead.

But no...

What he wanted—what he really, really wanted—was to stop feeling like no matter who kept him company in his bleak days and solitary evenings, he would always be alone.

oOo

The winter slept fitfully. Hiroki had been right—despite the persistent sunshine and lack of snow, the year ends were only growing chillier, and Tokyo hurried past huddled in shivers and layers of warm clothing. Several capricious winds blew around him in all directions, pulling at his hair, reddening his face.

Akihiko had never looked more at ease.

"Stop finger combing your hair every time there's a breeze", he commented idly after they had been walking through the city for a good fifteen minutes. "It'll only make it worse."

Burning in the cold, too uncomfortable to watch his words, Hiroki made no effort to bite down his growl. "It's easy for you to say when your hair doesn't look out of shape even when you've just woken up. Asshole."

He thought he would bite his tongue off as Akihiko blinked. "Nice of you to say, but I assure you I haven't been sixteen for quite some time." Sixteen? Were we only sixteen when we last slept together? "Take your hat off and let me fix your hair if you can't keep from griping about it."

"No", Hiroki said immediately. "Fuck that and fuck trying to fix my hair. I'll just keep it short in the winters, there's an idea. ...Where are we going?" Just don't touch me. If you touch me I might—I will run away.

"You're really thinking of cutting your hair just because—?"

"Where are we going?"

"Drinking."

The silence that followed was so long that Akihiko looked sideways and twitched a defensive ear at the sharp look he was receiving. "What? Can't a man drink? We're old enough now, you know." Hiroki also heard at least I waited until I was legal. He ignored it.

"When did you even start?"

"Few months ago", said Akihiko unconcernedly. "You seemed to like it well enough, so I thought I'd give it a go." A little chuckle ruffled his words as he added, "Turns out I'm actually pretty good at holding my liquor."

"Well, that's a relief", muttered Hiroki, suddenly glad for the wind and how it had already turned his face too rosy to blush any further. "I can't even begin to imagine how obnoxious you must be when drunk."

The usagi's brow crinkled. "I don't think I've ever gotten drunk, so I can't really say...? There's a difference between enjoying a drink and getting smashed. ...Not that you seem to be aware of that."

"What do you mean?" Hiroki asked swiftly, trying to ignore the icy bud that had taken root in his gut. No—no, I can't have said anything, I take care never to drink that much when I'm with him, I can't have—

"Nothing", Akihiko said, to the brunet's astonishment. "I don't actually know why I said that. But we're here, Hiroki."

They were; they had stopped walking some time ago and Hiroki, wrapped in his thoughts and the sentences that he was beginning to lose control of, had not noticed. As he looked ahead, his heart gave a jerk that seemed to lodge it somewhere in his lower belly.

"You sure you're busy after this, Kamijou?"

"Can—can we—" he began shakily, unsure of what he was even asking for. "Can we go somewhere else?"

"What? Why? Have you been here? You probably know that it's one of the best bars in the area—"

Shiratori...

"I—" Is it really worth it, making a mess of this meeting for such a slim chance...? The man could have left by now; he might not even have come; he might have gone elsewhere; he might have found a date who had other ideas. Or he could be in there this very moment, but... "No, it's nothing."

It's been a while since I last saw you, Akihiko... I really don't want to fuck this up.

"Nothing", he repeated firmly as the violet eyes only grew more questioning. "Let's go in."

oOo

Six empty glasses sat on the table before Akihiko; two unusually pink patches danced high on his cheeks and his eyes were brighter than usual, but that was where the effect of the alcohol seemed to end. When he spoke, his voice was clearer than it had ever been.

"You know, Hiroki..."

Hiroki's hands tightened around the drink that he had been nursing all evening, too tense to let go at this point. "What is it?"

"I went drinking today", Akihiko said vaguely. "Not this, I mean. I mean I went earlier today, with a friend..."

And what am I, backup company? "So?"

"...the friend who always worries about his brother", the blond finished, expression deadpan. "Takahashi Takahiro. You know Takahiro, don't you?"

I wish I didn't. "And what about him?" His grip was tighter now; a thinner glass would have shattered.

"Well." Hiroki's eyes rested on the rise of Akihiko's arm with lazy, unhappy fascination, watching him signal to the bartender for another drink. He's been at this for a while... "Well, you see, Hiroki, he got himself a girlfriend."

The room seemed to shimmer. Huh...?

What... His gaze flew back to Akihiko's face, bemusedly raking the stoic features for something, anything that would give him a clue as to what he was supposed to say, but he only found himself reflected in the violet orbs.

What? What do you want me to do about it?

What am I supposed to tell you, I who have been in this wretched situation for years?

"So that kind of guy can get a girlfriend too?" he heard himself croak. "Never would've thought... What's she like?"

Now finally gulping down his drink, desperate to hide his face, he was thankful that he did not have to see Akihiko's expression as he replied dully, "In all honesty, I thought she would have been someone more intense."

The alcohol burned a reassuringly warm trail down his throat, soothing against the winter. ...I need another one.

"It's because you're so slow about matters like these..." his lips were moving of their own accord now and he tried to believe that he did not understand what he was saying.

I'm the slow one. It's me.

"Takes you a while to wise up to your own feelings, I'm sure?" he said idly, signaling for a new drink of his own. Of course it does. I spent far too long denying them, suppressing them, and by the time I knew for sure what they were I was already losing you. "No wonder you lost him."

You'll always end up second like this, Hiroki.

"You'll always wind up second like this, Akihiko."

Though white-knuckled around his now empty glass, his hands had begun to shake.

"You..." His friend's gaze was somewhat less sharp now—seven glasses had finally begun to get to him—but the meaning behind his chilly stare remained clear. "What are you even talking about?"

Hiroki willed his eyes to keep glaring at the shiny veneer of the bar top, focused and angry and—most importantly—dry. "Nothing."

"Well", Akihiko said with a new softness that Hiroki despised himself for hearing, "I don't quite understand you sometimes, but thanks for coming along with me tonight anyway. You needn't worry."

I couldn't not have come, he thought helplessly against the chink of a fresh mug being placed on the wood; when he released his glass to clutch at the new one, his fingers were stiff and aching. If there had been a way for me to have avoided this I would have taken it.

Why didn't I just go with Shiratori...

"It's nothing", he mumbled.

"That is why you came, isn't it?" Akihiko laughed into what Hiroki registered as being his eighth tankard. "You were worried about me..."

Fuck...

"...I'm sorry if the phone call really sounded so strange..."

Stop...

"Stop", Hiroki whispered. Not even drinking was going to melt the chill in his stomach now.

"What was that?"

I need to go. I thought it wouldn't come down to this but it did and now I'm miserable and I need to go. "Akihiko, I—" I'm sorry I can no longer restrain myself, I'm sorry I'm going to look a fool in front of you again, I'm...

"Kamijou, is that you?"

Hiroki raised his weary head with no surprise at all, knowing what was going to come, but nonetheless more thankful to see Shiratori Kiyoshi's smiling face than he had ever thought he would be.

oOo

One of my theories regarding Hiroki's long-standing love of Akihiko is that it was fueled by loneliness during his college years; from what we've seen of their childhood, they lived in the suburbs and moving to Tokyo would have left them both almost friendless or, at the very least, with no other acquaintances of the same age. It seems likely to me that Hiroki would mentally cling to Akihiko's company, panicking when the latter's solitary nature caused him to withdraw and making his feelings more unstable than they were as school kids. But since being aware of this instability would force him to keep his distance out of pride, the end result would probably be something like the mix of yearning and repulsion that I've tried to portray here (with less success than I would have liked, I'm afraid).

The moral of that story is that I have too much free time and mental energy. *quietly rolls back into the corner*