Evenings
Chapter One: Christmas
Sora sighed, "Do you always fight with your brother like that?"
"He's my brother... what am I supposed to do?" Yamato sighed.
"True," Sora giggled. "You're an interesting drunk, you know?"
"I've never drank before," the blonde admitted. "Well, unless you count me wanting to get wasted from my father's stash and chickening out last minute. Stuff tasted horrible as a kid, but now, it's kinda weird. I don't mind."
"I only drink occasionally," the redhead replied, "My Mom would kill me if she knew..."
"Well, we are only on the tail end of middle school, not exactly of legal age or anything," Yamato laughed. "Where are you taking me, anyway?"
"To sleep this mess off," Sora replied, "I doubt you want your father seeing you like this and I can't take you back to my Mom's. When I brought up Takeru's a second ago, you nearly decked me."
If I showed up like this at Mom's... I bet she would take the chance. Like you are now, Sora. What am I doing here? I'd rather face my Dad than do this, but I can't move. My mind's too clouded. What have I done?
"Here we go," Sora announced. The room was huge with an equally as huge bed in the center. There was a dresser, a TV, a bathroom, and a walk in closet. Two nightstands. Everything was pink with hearts, like a Valentine's decoration exploded.
"A love hotel," Yamato whispered.
"Yeah, well, it was closest," she said. Then Sora laughed. The alcohol was getting to her, too. "Um, actually, since it's Christmas Eve and all... I had this prebooked. I was hoping we would finally take this a little further."
"What?"
"We've been dating a year, Yamato. A year is a long time to barely even make out with the one you love," Sora said.
I don't like women, he reminded himself. As he sat down on the bed, he felt Sora push him down. Immediately fear overtook him, like a bad omen. I'm too weak to stop this.
"Yamato, is it okay?" / "Yamato, everything will be okay."
Mom...? No, this is Sora. Sora. Your friend.
"Yamato?" Sora asked, brushing back blonde locks. "I asked if this is okay."
I don't have a choice. You'll do this anyway. You always do. "Yeah... whatever..."
With that Sora kissed him and wrapped her arms around him. She slowly climbed on top of him. "I'm glad we can finally do this." / "We're finally alone." She slowly began to unbutton his shirt and then pulled back either side to run her hands over his chest. She kissed him again and snaked her hand lower. When she giggled through his lips, he could only hear his mother's gasps.
He grabbed her arms and pushed her away. She managed to stay on top of him. "What's the matter?" she demanded. / "Don't make Natsu, angry."
Yamato closed his eyes, "Sorry."
Sora shrugged it off and kissed along his neck, still teasing him lower. After she had enough of that, she removed her shirt, then her bra. "Do I look nice?" / "Is Mommy beautiful?"
The blonde shook his head slightly. Sora took this as a yes and kissed him again, before pressing her chest against his.
Yamato threw Sora from him but she wouldn't falter and held him down. She wasn't stronger than him, but his mind said he wasn't and so when he lifted his arms, it only came out as a desperate struggle. Sora giggled at him, but he could only hear his mother's laugh. That kind of laugh when you say something stupid or do something cute.
"You feel wonderful, Yamato," she said, "I like it when you're like this."
"Get off me," he hissed.
Sora obliged, wondering what he was up to now. He shoved her down, holding his hands around her neck, "How does it feel when this happens to you?" he cried, tears falling onto Sora's face. She scratched at his wrists and managed to pry him off of her. He sat on the other side of the bed, staring down at his bleeding arms.
"Yama...?"
"Don't call me that," he snapped.
"Yamato, what's wrong with you?" she demanded.
"What's wrong with you?" he retorted, grabbing her wrist. She couldn't make him let go, even when she tugged at his hand. "Why are you doing this?"
"This is what we wanted." / "This is what you wanted."
"I never asked you for this," he breathed, "I hate you." He grabbed her other hand in his and Sora saw that she was in danger this time and kicked him over the edge of the bed. He dragged her down with him and they fought on the floor until Sora was crying.
"Yamato, it's me, Sora! Why are you doing this?"
"S-Sora," he whispered and backed away. The name was sobering to him and he looked at the blood smeared across his arms and the tears on Sora's face. He backed away until he hit a corner. "Sora, I'm sorry."
"What's wrong with you?" she screamed, clutching the sheets to her body. "What did I ever do to you?"
"N-Nothing..." he replied, tears flowing silently from his eyes. "Sora, I'm sorry."
"Sorry isn't good enough. Yamato, you attacked me."
"I... I didn't mean to..." he replied, still dazed. He stood, adjusted his clothes, and found his wallet and keys, then headed for the door. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Sora could only cry. She didn't understand. She couldn't understand anything. There was no reason for him to act like this. She leaned back against the bed for a moment, before she could feel his skin crawling under her nails and took a shower. She stayed the rest of the night, trying to wash whatever it was that had scared him from her body.
Yamato wasn't too far from home and when he tried to use the key and failed, he began banging loudly. His father rushed to the front door and opened it. His son seemed out of it and there were cuts on his arms, a bruise on his face. "Y-Yamato," Hiroaki whispered.
"I need to lay down," the blonde stated, then went over to the couch.
"Are you alright? You're bleeding," he insisted.
"Fine," Yamato replied.
Hiroaki went and got some medicine. The tiny cuts were too numerous to bother with band aids. "What happened?"
"...nothing."
"Something happened."
"Nothing, damn it!" he screamed, burying his face into his knees and wrapping himself in his arms, shooing his father away as he tended the wounds.
"You were drinking," his father reminded. "You probably don't remember. Whatever it is, we'll talk about it tomorrow." Hiroaki set the medicine aside and ran a hand through his hair. He laid his son down and gathered a quilt from the closet, tucking it over him. "Get some rest."
"I can't... sleep... can't stay awake... no matter what I do... I see her..." Yamato whispered all this admist tears and exhaustion and his father didn't understand. All he could do was stay with the boy and brush back his hair until he did finally pass out, much like he did when he was a kid. All Hiroaki could see until now was his little boy, but in that moment he realized things were changing.