[fic] You Don't Have to Break my Heart [Kio/Soubi]
Title: You Don't Have to Break My Heart
Author: Rhea Logan (yutaka)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Kio/Soubi
Wordcount: 1582
Summary: Some mornings are different than others.
Note: This fic is for chaineddove, who forced my creative self out of slumber. It was also beta'ed by her, for which I owe her more than this fic. ♥ All remaining faults are mine.
You Don't Have to Break my Heart
by Rhea Logan
All of our kisses must
Come to an end some time
But it is always your lips
Pulling away from mine
Trespassers William - Love You More
“I like your hair.”
The corners of Soubi's lips turned slightly upward; a ghost of a smile, even as he kept his eyes low and focused on the sketch in front of him. It was that enigmatic smile, again - Soubi's usual - the one that just begged for Kio to wonder what went on inside that pretty head. It took more than a sudden touch to surprise him. That figured. But today, there was something strange in the air at Soubi's place. Kio did not feel brave enough to dare anything more shocking this early in the morning, either.
I really do, he thought, tracing the length of the soft bangs that partly obscured Soubi's face. Long shadows crawled lazily across his pale skin. The sunlit honey of his hair teased Kio with a promise of something far sweeter; not for him.
Silk slips loose easily.
Silk, indeed - right there, between his fingertips. As delicate as it looked; as tempting as the rest of this man. Soubi's eyebrow arched a little, yet he seemed more amused than bothered by distractions such as this.
As easily as you smile, even when you're in pain.
“Kio.” Soubi blew at a thin strand that tickled his nose. The offending hair flew out of the way for a mere second before it landed back against his cheek. “I'm working.”
“Sou-chan!” Something about his friend's utter disregard for him, with the sole exception of removing the distraction he was, told Kio to take back his hand. “You're weird. When you do nothing, it's nothing all the way. When you finally get to work, you overdo it.”
Unruffled, Soubi tapped the tip of his pencil against his lower lip. That tiny smile still danced there - not as far as his eyes, Kio guessed - and if Soubi had an answer to that, he chose not to give it.
A sigh, dramatic or otherwise, would not do the trick. Soubi had grown immune to those, somewhere along the way, and Kio resorted to them with little hope of drawing attention to himself. He crossed his arms on his chest and fell back against the cushions behind him. This called for a distraction; for him, for a change. He really should get up, now, and find--
Soubi shifted his weight, and his brief glance from behind long lashes seared its imprint on Kio's face. He caught Soubi's eyes; not long enough to hold them, just long enough to feel himself tingle inside and out like a teen under the scrutiny of his first crush.
“What?” he tried for nonchalance, but the blush he knew was painfully obvious squashed the attempt. “I have something on my face?”
But by then, Soubi only had eyes for the sheet if front of him again, the amused half-smile back to tugging at his lips. “Your glasses,” he said, absently reaching to push his own up the bride of his nose with one fingertip.
Kio gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes. Damn him, if that guy had so much as tried to answer his question. Not that it was serious to begin with, but...
“Why do you have to be so difficult?” he blurted. Not quite the words he'd had in mind, but that persisted, too. “You won't tell me a damn thing, but you're expecting me to run here every time you call.”
The steady strokes of Soubi's pencil against the paper picked up speed - only so little - unwavering eyes downcast and calm. “It was you who called today,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “I thought you were here because you wanted to be.”
“Yeah--” Kio shot back reflexively before he had a chance to think. Soubi had a point and, in his heart of hearts, Kio found nothing convincing enough to the contrary. Yet it did not matter that much in the overall sum of ups and downs that constituted their peculiar friendship. “You know what I mean,” he added, resigned. His pride versus Soubi's unique version of logic took another blow.
“I do,” Soubi gave a small nod of his head. “You feel unappreciated. You think you give too much for what you receive.”
Kio blinked. “Sou-chan--” he stopped before more uncalled for words darted forth and took with them the rest of his dignity. They had gone through this before. But never before had Kio only said, “You're right.”
The soft scratching of lead against paper ceased. Soubi looked up, with that unreadable expression on his face. A beautiful mask; a cotton pillowcase, easy on the eye, for the shards of a broken soul. Kio had once tried to squint to see through it, but Soubi had left him with a faint impression of truth that was just another layer of the same disguise. Now, cerulean blue spilled across his vision and fixed upon Kio's own, wide open eyes.
“I understand,” Soubi said simply.
Whatever it was that possessed him had a heavy, unsettling shade to it. His chest felt tight with frustration. Kio sprang to his feet, pushing one hand through his wild hair before setting it firmly on his hip.
“I don't think so,” he said. Somehow, the sight of Soubi just sitting there, as if the situation were as normal as it could be, turned holding his tongue into an impossible task. “You're not paying enough attention to know what I'm talking about. And what is more important than looking at me when we're talking?”
Soubi leaned back from his hunched position, far enough for Kio to glance at the sketchpad in his lap. He should not care, he thought; he would only give Soubi another way to distract him and divert the conversation anywhere but where Kio wanted it to go. But curiosity claimed the better of him and he looked over Soubi's shoulder, feigning lack of interest and succeeding only until the drawing came into full view.
“That's--” he started, sandy eyebrows climbing into his hairline at the sudden onset of surprise.
“You.” Soubi turned his head and grinned.
Kio shook his head, though he did not know why. It seemed like the only not embarrassing thing to do. A monochrome depiction of his face stared back at him; a wide, bright smile and wind-tangled hair and a chupa stick in his mouth. So this... this was how Soubi saw him? Even if his face could not have looked anything like that today, sleep-deprived and hungover just a little too much for comfort.
He should say something, he mused; anything not to make himself look like the dumbstruck fool he was. But Soubi's smile was still of the warm, affectionate variety and Kio's vocabulary range shrunk under his gaze.
“You make a good model,” Soubi noticed, staring him up and down with clear appreciation. “No wonder you're so popular with the freshmen at school.”
Kio blushed furiously and pursed his lips. He was doing that again, that Soubi; skillfully changing the subject until Kio forgot what he wanted to say. He knew this trick by now, yet he would let Soubi have it; just like he knew that he would run to his aid whenever Soubi asked.
“Mmm. Kio?” Head tilted slightly to the side, Soubi glanced at him again through half-closed eyes.
The sun danced in his hair. Those sky-blue eyes had not looked so bright in days. Kio only stared. “Huh?”
“I want to do something for you,” he said. A few simple words that sent shivers down Kio's spine. “Tell me what you want.”
His breath hitched a little. Kio hoped Soubi hadn't noticed. He wiped sweaty palms against his lap and swallowed hard. So many possibilities. Only none of them real. Not since Soubi had told him they were through with the 'benefits' part of the definition of their friendship. Seimei, Soubi had said, did not approve of that. Kio's morbid curiosity urged him to wonder what words that brat had used, but he never asked. He did not need to know.
“It's fine,” Soubi said meekly, and the softness of his tone took on a sharp edge, one Soubi could not have intended, as it lodged itself in Kio's mind. “Just tell me what to do.”
Fuck me senseless, Kio's thoughts supplied, and he blushed. For that, he would not ask. Not again. Not when he knew beyond doubt that he would be denied. He was not in for yet another blow that would shatter this, too, and destroy his chance to walk away with something that would not kill his heart.
Kio waggled his eyebrows. A playful smile that had yet to fail him conformed to the moment, as well. He ignored the rest. “All right,” he said. “Drop your clothes and lie down.”
He caught a glimpse of that dreaded apologetic look on Soubi's face and had to suppress a shudder. No, Sou-chan, he thought. You don't have to break my heart today.
Slowly, Kio released the breath he had not realized he had been holding. Meeting Soubi's eyes, he became that Kio from the drawing again; his carefree antithesis and a remedy for his distress. He stretched and winked, tugging lightly at the sleeve of Soubi's shirt. “I want to draw you, too.”
March 24th, 2006
Author: Rhea Logan (yutaka)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Kio/Soubi
Wordcount: 1582
Summary: Some mornings are different than others.
Note: This fic is for chaineddove, who forced my creative self out of slumber. It was also beta'ed by her, for which I owe her more than this fic. ♥ All remaining faults are mine.
You Don't Have to Break my Heart
by Rhea Logan
All of our kisses must
Come to an end some time
But it is always your lips
Pulling away from mine
Trespassers William - Love You More
“I like your hair.”
The corners of Soubi's lips turned slightly upward; a ghost of a smile, even as he kept his eyes low and focused on the sketch in front of him. It was that enigmatic smile, again - Soubi's usual - the one that just begged for Kio to wonder what went on inside that pretty head. It took more than a sudden touch to surprise him. That figured. But today, there was something strange in the air at Soubi's place. Kio did not feel brave enough to dare anything more shocking this early in the morning, either.
I really do, he thought, tracing the length of the soft bangs that partly obscured Soubi's face. Long shadows crawled lazily across his pale skin. The sunlit honey of his hair teased Kio with a promise of something far sweeter; not for him.
Silk slips loose easily.
Silk, indeed - right there, between his fingertips. As delicate as it looked; as tempting as the rest of this man. Soubi's eyebrow arched a little, yet he seemed more amused than bothered by distractions such as this.
As easily as you smile, even when you're in pain.
“Kio.” Soubi blew at a thin strand that tickled his nose. The offending hair flew out of the way for a mere second before it landed back against his cheek. “I'm working.”
“Sou-chan!” Something about his friend's utter disregard for him, with the sole exception of removing the distraction he was, told Kio to take back his hand. “You're weird. When you do nothing, it's nothing all the way. When you finally get to work, you overdo it.”
Unruffled, Soubi tapped the tip of his pencil against his lower lip. That tiny smile still danced there - not as far as his eyes, Kio guessed - and if Soubi had an answer to that, he chose not to give it.
A sigh, dramatic or otherwise, would not do the trick. Soubi had grown immune to those, somewhere along the way, and Kio resorted to them with little hope of drawing attention to himself. He crossed his arms on his chest and fell back against the cushions behind him. This called for a distraction; for him, for a change. He really should get up, now, and find--
Soubi shifted his weight, and his brief glance from behind long lashes seared its imprint on Kio's face. He caught Soubi's eyes; not long enough to hold them, just long enough to feel himself tingle inside and out like a teen under the scrutiny of his first crush.
“What?” he tried for nonchalance, but the blush he knew was painfully obvious squashed the attempt. “I have something on my face?”
But by then, Soubi only had eyes for the sheet if front of him again, the amused half-smile back to tugging at his lips. “Your glasses,” he said, absently reaching to push his own up the bride of his nose with one fingertip.
Kio gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes. Damn him, if that guy had so much as tried to answer his question. Not that it was serious to begin with, but...
“Why do you have to be so difficult?” he blurted. Not quite the words he'd had in mind, but that persisted, too. “You won't tell me a damn thing, but you're expecting me to run here every time you call.”
The steady strokes of Soubi's pencil against the paper picked up speed - only so little - unwavering eyes downcast and calm. “It was you who called today,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “I thought you were here because you wanted to be.”
“Yeah--” Kio shot back reflexively before he had a chance to think. Soubi had a point and, in his heart of hearts, Kio found nothing convincing enough to the contrary. Yet it did not matter that much in the overall sum of ups and downs that constituted their peculiar friendship. “You know what I mean,” he added, resigned. His pride versus Soubi's unique version of logic took another blow.
“I do,” Soubi gave a small nod of his head. “You feel unappreciated. You think you give too much for what you receive.”
Kio blinked. “Sou-chan--” he stopped before more uncalled for words darted forth and took with them the rest of his dignity. They had gone through this before. But never before had Kio only said, “You're right.”
The soft scratching of lead against paper ceased. Soubi looked up, with that unreadable expression on his face. A beautiful mask; a cotton pillowcase, easy on the eye, for the shards of a broken soul. Kio had once tried to squint to see through it, but Soubi had left him with a faint impression of truth that was just another layer of the same disguise. Now, cerulean blue spilled across his vision and fixed upon Kio's own, wide open eyes.
“I understand,” Soubi said simply.
Whatever it was that possessed him had a heavy, unsettling shade to it. His chest felt tight with frustration. Kio sprang to his feet, pushing one hand through his wild hair before setting it firmly on his hip.
“I don't think so,” he said. Somehow, the sight of Soubi just sitting there, as if the situation were as normal as it could be, turned holding his tongue into an impossible task. “You're not paying enough attention to know what I'm talking about. And what is more important than looking at me when we're talking?”
Soubi leaned back from his hunched position, far enough for Kio to glance at the sketchpad in his lap. He should not care, he thought; he would only give Soubi another way to distract him and divert the conversation anywhere but where Kio wanted it to go. But curiosity claimed the better of him and he looked over Soubi's shoulder, feigning lack of interest and succeeding only until the drawing came into full view.
“That's--” he started, sandy eyebrows climbing into his hairline at the sudden onset of surprise.
“You.” Soubi turned his head and grinned.
Kio shook his head, though he did not know why. It seemed like the only not embarrassing thing to do. A monochrome depiction of his face stared back at him; a wide, bright smile and wind-tangled hair and a chupa stick in his mouth. So this... this was how Soubi saw him? Even if his face could not have looked anything like that today, sleep-deprived and hungover just a little too much for comfort.
He should say something, he mused; anything not to make himself look like the dumbstruck fool he was. But Soubi's smile was still of the warm, affectionate variety and Kio's vocabulary range shrunk under his gaze.
“You make a good model,” Soubi noticed, staring him up and down with clear appreciation. “No wonder you're so popular with the freshmen at school.”
Kio blushed furiously and pursed his lips. He was doing that again, that Soubi; skillfully changing the subject until Kio forgot what he wanted to say. He knew this trick by now, yet he would let Soubi have it; just like he knew that he would run to his aid whenever Soubi asked.
“Mmm. Kio?” Head tilted slightly to the side, Soubi glanced at him again through half-closed eyes.
The sun danced in his hair. Those sky-blue eyes had not looked so bright in days. Kio only stared. “Huh?”
“I want to do something for you,” he said. A few simple words that sent shivers down Kio's spine. “Tell me what you want.”
His breath hitched a little. Kio hoped Soubi hadn't noticed. He wiped sweaty palms against his lap and swallowed hard. So many possibilities. Only none of them real. Not since Soubi had told him they were through with the 'benefits' part of the definition of their friendship. Seimei, Soubi had said, did not approve of that. Kio's morbid curiosity urged him to wonder what words that brat had used, but he never asked. He did not need to know.
“It's fine,” Soubi said meekly, and the softness of his tone took on a sharp edge, one Soubi could not have intended, as it lodged itself in Kio's mind. “Just tell me what to do.”
Fuck me senseless, Kio's thoughts supplied, and he blushed. For that, he would not ask. Not again. Not when he knew beyond doubt that he would be denied. He was not in for yet another blow that would shatter this, too, and destroy his chance to walk away with something that would not kill his heart.
Kio waggled his eyebrows. A playful smile that had yet to fail him conformed to the moment, as well. He ignored the rest. “All right,” he said. “Drop your clothes and lie down.”
He caught a glimpse of that dreaded apologetic look on Soubi's face and had to suppress a shudder. No, Sou-chan, he thought. You don't have to break my heart today.
Slowly, Kio released the breath he had not realized he had been holding. Meeting Soubi's eyes, he became that Kio from the drawing again; his carefree antithesis and a remedy for his distress. He stretched and winked, tugging lightly at the sleeve of Soubi's shirt. “I want to draw you, too.”
March 24th, 2006