[One-shot] Tomorrow you'll be gone
Tomorrow you'll be gone
Kisumai - Kitayama/Fujigaya
1285 words, PG-13, angst
Something tore inside and it wasn’t until later that he realized that his heart was broken and bleeding.
This was sort of supposed to be a Valentine's fic (entirely inappropriate) but I didn't finish it on time. (It is totally not written in linear order.) It makes no sense to anyone except me and you. Who is this for? I think this is for them, right?
Kitayama awoke before Fujigaya, loathe to move with the warmth of Fujigaya’s body against his. But the morning had come, he knew, and there was no reason in putting off the inevitable, no matter how much he wished to.
Wishes had never gotten him anywhere and they wouldn’t work here. What shouldn’t have happened in the first place now had to come to an end.
He rolled onto his side, lips quirking into a half smile as he watched Fujigaya sleep for a moment. It was unreasonable for Fujigaya to look so happy, so free as he slept because it made Kitayama even more reluctant to reach out to wake him up.
He traced his fingertips over Fujigaya’s shoulder blade, hand brushing over smooth skin as he leaned in. Fujigaya sighed, nuzzling closer unconsciously and Kitayama took the chance to press their lips together. Fujigaya stirred, letting out a soft hum and leaning up into his mouth, soft and willing and everything.
“We have to get up soon,” Kitayama reminded him softly, watching as Fujigaya blearily blinked his eyes open. He was only half-awake, but there was understanding in his eyes. He seemed to drift for a moment, as if about to pull away, but instead he pressed closer, catching Kitayama’s mouth in a kiss that was deep and passionate.
Kitayama welcomed it, even if he could taste the desperation on Fujigaya’s tongue.
Fujigaya was slowly losing himself.
He felt raw, as if all the skin had been scraped from his body and painted back on. He was too hot and then suddenly too cold, trapped in a vicious cycle that left him frayed and undone. One moment he was happy and then a breath later he was drowning in despair.
So he ran.
Where he was going, he didn’t know. Or maybe he was just escaping, but he didn’t know what from, either. It was all just fragmented and fractured, and there was nothing left to do but run and run and run.
Someone caught his hand, bringing his short-lived journey to a halt. Swinging him around, Kitayama frowned at Fujigaya, at the wildness. “What’s wrong?”
“Let’s go somewhere,” Fujigaya breathed out, pulling on Kitayama’s grip, which tightened around his wrist. He wasn’t looking to escape, but to feel anchored. “Somewhere, anywhere, I just want to go away.”
He expected Kitayama to laugh at him or to scold him. It wasn’t time for this, he had to pull together, and all that. Instead, after studying Fujigaya’s expression for a moment longer, Kitayama nodded.
“Let’s go.”
“You lied to me, Taisuke.”
Fujigaya flinched at the accusation, quickly turning away so he couldn’t see Kitayama’s expression. He knew there was disappointment in the other’s eyes and he knew he couldn’t face it.
“I’ve been trying to help you, Fujigaya. But how am I supposed to help you when you lie to me? How am I supposed to trust you?”
“I’m sorry!” Fujigaya howled, whirling to face Kitayama, facing Kitayama’s disappointment and anger, and his own shame head on. “I didn’t mean to, I just needed to...” but his words failed him when he saw Kitayama shake his head sadly.
“I need to be able to trust you, Taisuke,” Kitayama said, voice low. “I need that much from you… and now… I’m not sure anymore.”
Fujigaya felt frozen in place as he watched Kitayama walk away. Something tore inside and it wasn’t until later that he realized that his heart was broken and bleeding.
They were drunk and it was a good thing, because painting on Kitayama’s wall with their fingers would never seem like a good idea otherwise.
“There,” Fujigaya said proudly, his shoulders shaking with unrepressed laughter as he slaughters the last kanji of his name, pulling his hand away to admire his handiwork with the pink paint.
“Idiot,” Kitayama slurred, and there was soon red paint on the wall next to Fujigaya’s name, Kitayama’s own work only slightly neater.
“You know…” Fujigaya leaned heavily against Kitayama’s shoulder, unconcerned with the wet paint he was smearing on Kitayama’s t-shirt. “Your name kinda looks like a dog peeing on a bush.”
“You ass!” Shoving Fujigaya over indignantly, Kitayama watched as the other sprawled out on the floor, laughing freely. The sound rang through the air in a way that would have been obnoxious had it not been Fujigaya.
He swung a leg over Fujigaya’s hips, settling down on top of him. “You got me all dirty,” he said, pointing at his shirt, laughing along with Fujigaya when the words sank in, and they were both too drunk for it, but maybe that was the only reason he leaned down to kiss Fujigaya. It was such a stupid idea that he just couldn’t help himself when Fujigaya looked up at him through his lashes.
He could taste the beer in Fujigaya’s mouth, chased the taste as far as Fujigaya would let him, his hands curled in the other’s hair, as if suddenly Fujigaya was the only thing that could keep him grounded. It was not at all what he would have imagined for his first kiss with Fujigaya, nor would he admit that he’d tried imagining it before. It was sloppy and wet and Kitayama wasn’t sure if he didn’t love it.
Kitayama was asleep on the couch by the time lunch break was over. “Taisuke, can you go get Kitayama,” Yokoo had said, and Fujigaya had reluctantly made his way over to the other. He wondered if Yokoo had done it on purpose, knowing they weren’t talking to each other at the moment.
Sleep was the only time Kitayama looked truly at peace, without the stresses and worries of their schedule weighing his shoulders down and darkening his eyes. Fujigaya hesitated, hating to wake him. Not just because of how relaxed he looked, but because Fujigaya didn’t want to see Kitayama’s walls go up once he realized who was there.
It was a deserved punishment. Fujigaya felt miserable.
“I miss you,” he murmured, wanting nothing more than to lean closer. The ache in his chest threatened to tear him apart, the way it had already divided the two of them, but he knew he had no right, no reason to reach out to Kitayama, except for the loneliness. Kitayama knew every side of him, had seen him at his ugliest moments. There was comfort knowing there was nothing he could hide from Kitayama’s knowing eyes.
But in the end, it was something he’d done and couldn’t undo, so he pulled his hand away, leaving the dressing room as swiftly as possible.
“Let’s just see what we can get done without Kitayama,” he told Miyata and the rest, avoiding Yokoo’s piercing stare.
Kitayama stared down at his phone, wondering why Fujigaya continued to reply and yet say nothing at all. It was all meaningless, and in turn it was starting to make him feel meaningless.
‘Gotta go’ he texted Fujigaya, shoving the phone onto the bedside table and trying to ignore how Fujigaya didn’t even reply.
Fujigaya stared at his phone, wondering if he was ever going to fix things with Kitayama when it felt like Kitayama was pushing him away.
“That night, that morning,” Fujigaya said, fists clenched as he stared at Kitayama’s back. For the first time, he began to cry, broken wishes littering his heart as he willed Kitayama to turn around and face him. “I always wanted that…”
Kitayama didn’t turn around, didn’t even turn his head to look at Fujigaya. “I know… I know, Taisuke.” He paused, before walking away. “I wanted that too.”
To: Fujigaya Taisuke
From: Kitayama Hiromitsu
I still want that night and that morning, Taisuke. I still want you.
I’m sorry.
Kisumai - Kitayama/Fujigaya
1285 words, PG-13, angst
Something tore inside and it wasn’t until later that he realized that his heart was broken and bleeding.
This was sort of supposed to be a Valentine's fic (entirely inappropriate) but I didn't finish it on time. (It is totally not written in linear order.) It makes no sense to anyone except me and you. Who is this for? I think this is for them, right?
Kitayama awoke before Fujigaya, loathe to move with the warmth of Fujigaya’s body against his. But the morning had come, he knew, and there was no reason in putting off the inevitable, no matter how much he wished to.
Wishes had never gotten him anywhere and they wouldn’t work here. What shouldn’t have happened in the first place now had to come to an end.
He rolled onto his side, lips quirking into a half smile as he watched Fujigaya sleep for a moment. It was unreasonable for Fujigaya to look so happy, so free as he slept because it made Kitayama even more reluctant to reach out to wake him up.
He traced his fingertips over Fujigaya’s shoulder blade, hand brushing over smooth skin as he leaned in. Fujigaya sighed, nuzzling closer unconsciously and Kitayama took the chance to press their lips together. Fujigaya stirred, letting out a soft hum and leaning up into his mouth, soft and willing and everything.
“We have to get up soon,” Kitayama reminded him softly, watching as Fujigaya blearily blinked his eyes open. He was only half-awake, but there was understanding in his eyes. He seemed to drift for a moment, as if about to pull away, but instead he pressed closer, catching Kitayama’s mouth in a kiss that was deep and passionate.
Kitayama welcomed it, even if he could taste the desperation on Fujigaya’s tongue.
Fujigaya was slowly losing himself.
He felt raw, as if all the skin had been scraped from his body and painted back on. He was too hot and then suddenly too cold, trapped in a vicious cycle that left him frayed and undone. One moment he was happy and then a breath later he was drowning in despair.
So he ran.
Where he was going, he didn’t know. Or maybe he was just escaping, but he didn’t know what from, either. It was all just fragmented and fractured, and there was nothing left to do but run and run and run.
Someone caught his hand, bringing his short-lived journey to a halt. Swinging him around, Kitayama frowned at Fujigaya, at the wildness. “What’s wrong?”
“Let’s go somewhere,” Fujigaya breathed out, pulling on Kitayama’s grip, which tightened around his wrist. He wasn’t looking to escape, but to feel anchored. “Somewhere, anywhere, I just want to go away.”
He expected Kitayama to laugh at him or to scold him. It wasn’t time for this, he had to pull together, and all that. Instead, after studying Fujigaya’s expression for a moment longer, Kitayama nodded.
“Let’s go.”
“You lied to me, Taisuke.”
Fujigaya flinched at the accusation, quickly turning away so he couldn’t see Kitayama’s expression. He knew there was disappointment in the other’s eyes and he knew he couldn’t face it.
“I’ve been trying to help you, Fujigaya. But how am I supposed to help you when you lie to me? How am I supposed to trust you?”
“I’m sorry!” Fujigaya howled, whirling to face Kitayama, facing Kitayama’s disappointment and anger, and his own shame head on. “I didn’t mean to, I just needed to...” but his words failed him when he saw Kitayama shake his head sadly.
“I need to be able to trust you, Taisuke,” Kitayama said, voice low. “I need that much from you… and now… I’m not sure anymore.”
Fujigaya felt frozen in place as he watched Kitayama walk away. Something tore inside and it wasn’t until later that he realized that his heart was broken and bleeding.
They were drunk and it was a good thing, because painting on Kitayama’s wall with their fingers would never seem like a good idea otherwise.
“There,” Fujigaya said proudly, his shoulders shaking with unrepressed laughter as he slaughters the last kanji of his name, pulling his hand away to admire his handiwork with the pink paint.
“Idiot,” Kitayama slurred, and there was soon red paint on the wall next to Fujigaya’s name, Kitayama’s own work only slightly neater.
“You know…” Fujigaya leaned heavily against Kitayama’s shoulder, unconcerned with the wet paint he was smearing on Kitayama’s t-shirt. “Your name kinda looks like a dog peeing on a bush.”
“You ass!” Shoving Fujigaya over indignantly, Kitayama watched as the other sprawled out on the floor, laughing freely. The sound rang through the air in a way that would have been obnoxious had it not been Fujigaya.
He swung a leg over Fujigaya’s hips, settling down on top of him. “You got me all dirty,” he said, pointing at his shirt, laughing along with Fujigaya when the words sank in, and they were both too drunk for it, but maybe that was the only reason he leaned down to kiss Fujigaya. It was such a stupid idea that he just couldn’t help himself when Fujigaya looked up at him through his lashes.
He could taste the beer in Fujigaya’s mouth, chased the taste as far as Fujigaya would let him, his hands curled in the other’s hair, as if suddenly Fujigaya was the only thing that could keep him grounded. It was not at all what he would have imagined for his first kiss with Fujigaya, nor would he admit that he’d tried imagining it before. It was sloppy and wet and Kitayama wasn’t sure if he didn’t love it.
Kitayama was asleep on the couch by the time lunch break was over. “Taisuke, can you go get Kitayama,” Yokoo had said, and Fujigaya had reluctantly made his way over to the other. He wondered if Yokoo had done it on purpose, knowing they weren’t talking to each other at the moment.
Sleep was the only time Kitayama looked truly at peace, without the stresses and worries of their schedule weighing his shoulders down and darkening his eyes. Fujigaya hesitated, hating to wake him. Not just because of how relaxed he looked, but because Fujigaya didn’t want to see Kitayama’s walls go up once he realized who was there.
It was a deserved punishment. Fujigaya felt miserable.
“I miss you,” he murmured, wanting nothing more than to lean closer. The ache in his chest threatened to tear him apart, the way it had already divided the two of them, but he knew he had no right, no reason to reach out to Kitayama, except for the loneliness. Kitayama knew every side of him, had seen him at his ugliest moments. There was comfort knowing there was nothing he could hide from Kitayama’s knowing eyes.
But in the end, it was something he’d done and couldn’t undo, so he pulled his hand away, leaving the dressing room as swiftly as possible.
“Let’s just see what we can get done without Kitayama,” he told Miyata and the rest, avoiding Yokoo’s piercing stare.
Kitayama stared down at his phone, wondering why Fujigaya continued to reply and yet say nothing at all. It was all meaningless, and in turn it was starting to make him feel meaningless.
‘Gotta go’ he texted Fujigaya, shoving the phone onto the bedside table and trying to ignore how Fujigaya didn’t even reply.
Fujigaya stared at his phone, wondering if he was ever going to fix things with Kitayama when it felt like Kitayama was pushing him away.
“That night, that morning,” Fujigaya said, fists clenched as he stared at Kitayama’s back. For the first time, he began to cry, broken wishes littering his heart as he willed Kitayama to turn around and face him. “I always wanted that…”
Kitayama didn’t turn around, didn’t even turn his head to look at Fujigaya. “I know… I know, Taisuke.” He paused, before walking away. “I wanted that too.”
To: Fujigaya Taisuke
From: Kitayama Hiromitsu
I still want that night and that morning, Taisuke. I still want you.
I’m sorry.