Yay, I don't suck so much anymore - [FIC/Log] Reunion Pt.1
I decided to join an RP. Followed soon by the rest of the Pervertalleros (frackin_sweet and kattmad). Insanity reigns. So FS and I did this log - she's Genma, I'm Iruka, and we decided it needed to be shared. Hooray free access. Enjoy.
Title: Reunion - Pt.1
Who: Iruka, Genma
Where: Topanga Beach
When: Afternoon, Saturday May 10
What: Two old high school friends catch up after an over ten-year separation.
Warnings: NSFW. MA. Language, drug use, generally-unsafe behavior. And sex.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Amazing what a good night's sleep could do for a man’s outlook on life. That, and knowing that he’d be seeing Genma. Iruka was a little nervous about the whole thing, but he figured that was expected. High school had been a long time ago. Genma had been the most important person in Iruka’s life for two years, but ten years was ten years. At least the man was alive, and in his book, that was good news.
It was just after 5pm when Iruka pulled his bike into a driveway near Topanga Beach. He stared at the house for a moment, then smiled. Either Genma had done very well for himself, or they were trespassing. Genma said it was a friend’s place.
Per instructions, Iruka pushed his bike down the driveway and slid it inside a shed. He left the helmet, grabbed his gear, and followed the path to a wooden deck. A cooler held Genma’s sandwich, a few other snacks, water and ice. He had a satchel across his body with a change of clothes, a towel, some sneakers and a sweater. When the sun went down, it would get chilly. He hoped Genma brought blankets, but if not, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d passed out in the sand when they were both too wasted to get home.
Iruka didn’t bother shielding his eyes as he looked across the beach. His Army-issued sunglasses were more than a match for any glare. The water was a little choppy. It was probably still too cold to swim. He scanned the beach, looking for the ugly hat.
Even though Venice Beach was far more convenient, Genma preferred the less polished feel of Topanga. He also liked the fact that his most reliable customer lived here, in a comfortable beach house that he'd let Genma use sometimes, in lieu of paying for his coke. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement, particularly now, when he wanted a comfortable, secluded place to relax and hang out. He didn't really suspect they'd use the house anyhow, so he hauled a collection of old blankets and a couple of teak beach chairs down to the empty fire pit to wait for Iruka.
He had a feeling it wasn't going to be just like old times. Obviously, they were both ten years older and had some mileage. Genma didn't usually make apologies for anything, but he found he regretted the fact that he'd never gotten in touch with Iruka throughout those years. He'd known Iruka had been looking for him, early on...but after a few messages passed along, his mother and sister had stopped trying.
So, this was going to be his attempt to renew that bond. No, it wouldn't be exactly like their all-night benders getting drunk and tag-teaming surfer girls. There was actually this degree of unsurety, carried over from the party the other night. But hopefully he had the remedy for that - music, beer, a bag of weed, a few tabs of ecstacy, and the best intention of, at some point, apologizing for being a dick. Iruka had always been the forgiving type...hopefully, he still was.
Genma looked out from under the brim of his hat as he heard footsteps crunching towards him in the pebbly sand.
"Hey." Not 'hello', or 'hi', or any other greeting. The same sick euphoria he'd felt before started in Iruka's stomach and spread up to his brain. He didn't know what to say, which was just wrong, because he and Genma had always been able to talk. About anything, about nothing. No matter what had happened between them or to them or around them. But now? He just stood there, his hand gripping the cooler a little too tightly.
Genma squinted up at Iruka, who looked almost coplike in those shades. Well, he would've if not for the long hair. And the kind of tentative air about him at the moment. "Don't even tell me you don't have another crack about my hat all ready to go, Iruka. Siddown. Ice the beer. Dunno what you drink now, but I sprang for your old favorite." He stretched out a foot and nudged open one of the paper grocery sack nearby, to reveal a case of PBR in cans.
"Good enough for the beach," Iruka grinned back, relaxing. He hadn't drank that stuff since, well, high school. Several deployments in Germany had ruined him, although he could still put a few Coronas away with his neighbors. "Nice place. Not yours?"
"Ha, I wish." Genma had a momentary worry about how to word his answer to Iruka. "I have a...freelance client, who sometimes lets me use it when he's out of town, and then I knock something off his bill." He rummaged in the other bag. "Lets me drive his Jag too. It's a satisfactory arrangement."
Sinking onto his knees, Iruka set the cooler down and slid his satchel off of his shoulder. "I'm not drunk enough to hear any more. But screw the ice, we've got a damn ocean to do that job." He stripped off his jacket and tossed it over the chair, then began to pull off his boots. "I learned all kinds of hillbilly tricks when I was stuck in Alabama." Inside, Iruka was shaking. The house belonged to Genma's boyfriend, lover, keeper? Because a 'client' would never let a whore drive his car. Or maybe he would. Iruka knew less about prostitution than he did porn.
Genma snickered. "Hillbilly tricks, eh? Why did Dueling Banjos just start playing in my head when you said that?" He pulled a bottle of tea out of the bag. "Do whatever you want with the beer." He felt a really stupid proud smile growing, and bit his lip to keep it back. "I've been sober almost four years now." Then he couldn't help grinning when Iruka gave him that 'bitch, please" look he remembered so well. "Sober as in alcohol-free, I mean. I got something out of rehab."
Iruka leaned over and squeezed Genma's arm. He was feeling the urge to hug again, but he wasn't going to make an idiot out of himself just yet. "That's great, Gen. Really." He smiled, then pulled back, adding socks to the boots, rolling his jeans up a little, and stuffing his feet into the ragged beach sneakers he'd brought along. "I'm gonna go dunk this in the water. Back in a sec."
He'd lasted five minutes in Genma's company and he was already feeling overwhelmed. Maybe he shouldn't be drinking in front of the man, but then, Genma had been at the party, and he seemed okay with it. Shoving the case of beer into the water, Iruka used some straps to secure it, grinning because some enterprising soul with the same idea had pounded a hook into some rocks. He'd have to tell Genma that, for future reference.
Genma sighed as he watched Iruka submerge his beer. He recognized the reaction easily enough...the word 'rehab' was generally enough to make people flee screaming into the night, thinking he was likely to suck the fun right out of their evening. How wrong they were, though. He pulled a ziploc baggie out of his backpack. He'd planned on rolling them nice fat spliffs but the buds were still too intact and sticky, so he pinched a few off and packed them into a small glass pipe instead. By the time Iruka returned, he'd already primed it and lit up. "Don't get thinking I'm all clean-living and shit, Iruka," he said carefully, holding the smoke until it burned and then exhaling. "I just said I quit drinking. I picked up the slack in other areas." He quirked an eyebrow at Iruka and held out the pipe and lighter. When Iruka didn't take it right away, he smiled. "Up to you. Won't kill you nearly as fast as the other kind of smoking."
"I quit those," Iruka mumbled, taking the pipe in his hand. Instead of slumping heavily in the chair across from Genma, Iruka slid down onto the sand and leaned back against the side of the one already occupied. Yeah, he couldn't see much of Genma, but he couldn't take the distance anymore. If he blocked out the sounds of the wind and surf and gulls, he could almost imagine they were back in his apartment, Genma sprawled out on the sofa, Iruka on the floor, handing a joint back and forth. "Well, I kind of had to - hospital rules and all." He chuckled helplessly because he knew Genma had no idea what he meant, then bent his head to suck the bitter smoke into his lungs, hoping he didn't cough. He hadn't smoked this stuff in a while either.
Genma just watched as Iruka held onto the pipe long enough to take a second hit. Good, do whatever makes you feel better, he thought as he took it back, the bowl pleasantly warm in his hand. Iruka was clearly at a loss for some reason, and Genma wasn't sure how to help him with that, or that he even really should. He wasn't high enough to just sit and enjoy the silence yet, so he tapped off some ash and lit up again. "Thanks for asking around after me, Iruka...when I left for school. I should've gotten in touch with you, and I just didn't. I dunno why. But I wish I had. I might not have ended up in mess after fucking mess...you always had a way of rescuing me, or making me feel like enough of a moron to take better care of myself."
Letting the smoke out slowly, Iruka shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. "You're the one who saved me, Genma. After that fight with Uncle... who knows where I would have ended up?" His fingers snuck up under his sunglasses, brushing aside phantom tears before they had a chance to appear. "You were my family, you know? Just you. I'm sorry, it wasn't fair of me to put that on you. And then you were gone, and I had to go. But if I'd known you were in trouble..."
He bent his head backward, looking up at Genma, smiling weakly. "So, what did happen? You were in college, I had just seen you in April, bending some chick over my coffee table. And then... poof."
Genma could feel the wave of Iruka's remembered abandonment, and at the same time he couldn't help but smile at the visual presented. "Yeah, you had great furniture," he said, in a stupid attempt to defuse some of the emotion. Then he saw Iruka's unamused look and sighed. He fished another bud out of the baggie and packed it into the pipe's bowl. "Look, Iruka," he said after a moment. "Be glad I poofed. Getting me out of my forty-five different kinds of trouble just would have dragged you down with me." He hit the pipe again, and this time just leaned back, eyeing Iruka. "And don't look at me like that. You were a kid with potential. I was a kid with a rap sheet and a tendency to blow cock to get out of trouble. All things considered, you did well, from what I can see. And I did better than expected."
"And yet we both ended up at Nixcore. Does that really sound like we're doing okay?" Iruka dropped his head, staring out at the water instead. "I'm not whining, and you're not whining, and you're right, we're both doing well all things considered." He dropped his legs out in front of him and bent over, his hands easily clearing his toes, groaning slightly, then stood up, brushing the sand off his butt. "I'm gonna check the beer. Oh, I brought snacks, too. Keep smoking this shit and we're gonna need 'em." Iruka grinned down at Genma, then snatched the hat from Genma's head and took off running.
It took Genma several seconds to realize that Iruka had just done a complete 180, from emotional to bastard in the blink of an eye. Okay, he was used to operating high, but his reaction time was down - that was some good shit they were smoking.
"Asshole! You'll be sorry you did that!" he yelled into the wind as he hauled himself up and started after Iruka, the sand shifting under his feet. Even as he did this, he realized something. If his reflexes were compromised, and he smoked all the time...he plunked back down in the sand laughing, hoping to witness a total Iruka-bailout into the surf.
Iruka was used to running, it was something he did often. He rather enjoyed it, especially on the beach. But not in clunky old Converse with ragged laces half-tied, and certainly not stoned on some of the best pot he'd had in a decade. His leg went one way, the rest of his body went the other, and it was just Iruka's bad luck a large wave picked that moment to roll in. He came up choking and spitting cold salt water out of his mouth, sunglasses askew, and Genma's hat clutched tightly in his hand, because if he had to choose, he'd pick Genma's hat over his sunglasses.
Rolling over, Iruka crawled through the water to the beer, lifting out two cans with one hand, then staggered back over to Genma, dripping wet. "Don't even start, Mr. VooDoo Hat Person," he growled, shoving the hat down on Genma's head. At least he wouldn't be the only wet person there. "It was time for a swim anyway."
Genma let cold, sandy water drip down his face and neck as he tipped backwards, laughing and snorting. “Of all the shit I’ve seen without a camera on me…” he gasped. “That deserves a prize.” He reached out and grasped Iruka’s ankle, as if somehow this could convey the affection he felt right now. Even if they did nothing else the entire evening… things seemed closer to being right again.
Closer, but not perfect. “I’m hungry,” Genma realized aloud. “Please tell me you brought food in that cooler, and your other career isn’t delivering chilled organs fresh out of some hotel bathtub.”
Only around Genma, could Iruka even think the words he was thinking, much less say them deliberately, knowing how it sounded. "Sorry, I'm fresh out of kidneys today, but I've got a footlong in there with your name on it. Just tell me where you want it." Of course, being able to say it and being able to say it without blushing were two different things as well, but he was used to blushing so he barreled on with a grin. "Or would you rather just lie back and let me shove it down your throat?"
Genma just stared at Iruka for a moment, and he could feel one of his eyes twitching as he processed what Iruka had just said. And when things caught up with each other, it registered as a challenge he really could not pass up. “Shove away, Iruka. I’m all about you being forceful,” he said deliberately. He hoped the slow lip movements looked properly lewd. Possibly making Iruka blush more was a challenge in itself.
Defeated, Iruka shook his head and laughed, clambering to his feet to snag the cooler. "What is it about you that brings out the punk in me?" He pulled out the sandwich, double-wrapped, and handed it over with a grin. "Chow down." Of course, he neglected to mention the fact that he'd doctored the thing to make sure he didn't end up the wrong end of it. Again.
Genma wrinkled his nose before he even got the sandwich open. "Well. I'll be safe from vampires for the next several days, anyhow," he commented. Then he carelessly undid the paper wrapping. Not that careful would have made a difference. No sooner than the paper had peeled away from the sandwich than a greasy chain reaction of meat, vegetables, and bread cascaded from his hands and all the way down his chest and into his lap. Someone had apparently attempted to stick the sandwich contents together with caper mayonnaise, but no dice. All that stuck was salami and a slice of avocado. To his forearm.
Defeated by a sandwich. Well, and by Iruka. Genma had to give him his due. "Thank you for the lapful of meat, Iruka," Genma said, carefully peeling up a slice. "It's just what I...always wanted."
Iruka shrugged and pulled out a few more containers of food. But he couldn't hide the snickers, his eyes darting back and forth between Genma covered in sandwich and the food still in the cooler. Pressing his lips together, Iruka took a few deep breaths so he could answer. "You always did like to play with your food. Nice to see some things never change."
Genma experimented with a bit of bell pepper from his shirt. "You know, this thing probably tasted good, before I was wearing it." He stood up and shook the food off, kicking sand over it. "It's not gonna smell good for very long, though. Gonna go and mooch some of Paul's clothes." He started towards the long open stairway to the house, and then turned. "Need anything from inside?"
"Nope. I came prepared." Iruka was already on his feet, stripping off his shirt and arranging it over the back of the chair. They had several hours of sun left, it was still warm. Hopefully his clothes would be dry by the time he needed to get dressed again. He didn't really consider it might be awkward or weird to undress right there, it was just Genma after all. But he was careful to keep himself facing foward, turning as Genma moved, because he wasn't quite ready to discuss the mass of scar tissue on his back. And his eyes did narrow briefly at the mention of Paul, whoever Paul might be.
Wet jeans soon followed the black tshirt, leaving Iruka in the black low-cut briefs he favored. Those would be staying on because he hadn't thought to bring swim trunks with him. He dried his hair with the towel, spread it out on the sand near Genma's chair, then cleaned off the sandwich mess and salvaged what he could, chuckling. Beer nearby, sunglasses cleaned and back in place, and one more thing to do before Genma got back. Iruka reached into the bottom of the cooler and pulled out his peace offering - cevapcici and kremsnite (Note1). They weren't the best in the world, but Iruka thought he'd done a fair job of recreating the Croatian pastries. Finally, he popped open his first beer and lay back on his elbows, watching the waves.
Most of the clothes inside weren't to Genma's lowkey thrift store tastes, but he finally found a pair of jeans that fit, and a zip-front, both of which probably cost more than his monthly rent. He left both undone as he let himself back out of the house...who knew, at this rate they'd both probably end up back in the surf again. He caught sight of Iruka stretched out on a towel and whistled. "Like you have to tan. Fag." He walked a slow circle around Iruka. "Hmm, you look good, though. I can almost forgive you for abusing my hat and making me wear my food."
Then he caught sight of the plate of pastries and did a double take. "What the... oh, my fucking god... is that..." Without pausing for more introspection, he immediately grabbed one of the sugar-dusted puffs and took a careful bite. "Oooh, my god... it is..." He tried to integrate the total mouth orgasm with the fact that he was about to weep from joy, gave up, and kept eating reverently.
Iruka snickered and aimed a lazy kick at Genma's ankle as he walked by. "Fag yourself, fag. I wear sunblock." That word didn't bother him coming from Genma. He lifted the sunglasses up with a grin when his friend pounced on the food. "It's not Ante's, but I think they came out pretty good. I must have changed Mrs. Paleta's oil like seventeen times before she coughed up the recipe." Inside he was squirming happily. There was something very satisfying about watching Genma eat something he'd cooked. He opened another beer before he said something sappy or stupid and popped his sunglasses back down. "Save me some sausage. Been a while since I've had meat."
Genma choked and spit out some kremsnite at Iruka's comment... how the hell did he DO that with a straight face... but no way was he losing out on homecooked Croat food, so he popped it back in his mouth and finished it anyhow, not giving half a shit if that was gross. He knew he'd regret not hopping on the sausage comment, but oh well. There'd probably be another opening later. "You gonna eat anything? 'Cause I have something for you to throw down on top of your food. You'll like it, promise."
"Hmmm? Oh, yeah. I forgot I was hungry." Iruka sat up and pulled out some plastic chopsticks from his bag, then popped open one of the containers displaying a multi-cultural bento. "Onigiri, fried tofu with hoisin sauce, cha gio, chilled spinach and seaweed salad..." He shrugged and laughed again. "I went vegan a while back." He leaned one elbow on his knee as he sat cross-legged to eat. "Looks like I'll need to quit that. I look like a twig compared to some of those guys at the party." Iruka ducked his head, frowning a little. "Actually, compared to most of them. Shit. I hate lifting weights, too."
"Lifting weights is overrated. I don't do it...unless you count lifting whatever may be sitting on my dick," Genma grinned. He flopped down on a blanket and licked the sugar and butter off his fingers. "And relax, you look great. You look like you." Genma figured Iruka would have no idea what he meant by this, and that was okay. Even if he came right out and bludgeoned Iruka over the head with it, he'd probably just laugh it off. He tilted his head and looked more critically. "You are a little on the thin side." Suddenly he remembered something Iruka had said about being in the hospital. "Are you sick?" he asked bluntly.
Iruka hoped he'd only cringed internally. But he couldn't hide it forever. "No, not sick," he said cautiously, setting his food down and covering it carefully. Best to start with the worst part. "Don't freak out, okay?" An opening almost guaranteed to cause a freak-out, but Iruka didn't know how else to word it. Slowly, he turned around, leaning forward a little to catch his hair and keep it from blowing. He wondered what Genma would see. He knew what he saw in the mirror - an ugly mass of scar tissue, in the center of his back, with smaller tendrils snaking out to form an almost-star shape. After seeing this, the one on his arm would be nothing.
Genma didn't say anything at first. The rest of Iruka's skin was so smooth that the contrast of the scar was shocking, but something about it... he forgot that he'd just taken his fingers out of his mouth and traced his right thumb and forefinger lightly across the runnels and whorls of the scar. It made him want to take photos of Iruka's back - graceful and a little alien, now. "What happened?" he asked.
"I'd just started working as a teacher's aide at a middle school. Just got out of the Army." Iruka's voice was calm, a little dull. He'd told the story before, but he knew if he relived it, he would break down. Because he'd been so hopeful and excited, and then it all went to hell in the span of fifteen minutes. "It was after school and I walked into a classroom to deliver something." His hands were clenched on his knees, and he shivered when Genma's fingers hit a sensitive spot. "I caught a teacher assaulting a student. I pulled the guy away, figured he'd run off or something. I never expected him to pull a knife."
Iruka twisted a little, displaying the puncture on his thigh, then his forearm. "He got me here first, and I put my hand up, so he slashed down and I fell. Then he went after the kid again, this time with the knife. And... I snapped. He was just a kid, like eleven or twelve. Hadn't even hit puberty. I got up and threw myself between them, because it was all I could think to do. So he stabbed me, and kept stabbing me. Slicing down, because I wouldn't move, no way in hell was I going to move and let him kill some little boy like that." Iruka let out a shaky sigh and smiled up at Genma. Lopsided, but it was a smile. "I nearly died. Would have died, except that little kid, he took off, and I thought he ran for it, so I stopped fighting. But just before I passed out, I saw the guy stagger. That little kid had picked up a fucking table and brought it down so hard..." Now he smiled, remembering the awe he'd felt. "Still had his pants around his knees. I tried to play hero, but he ended up saving us both."
"Saved by a middle-schooler," Genma mused. "Rough schools, anymore." He stopped tracing the scar when Iruka shuddered a little. He lightly tapped Iruka's shoulder, getting his attention. "Kid couldn't have done what he did if you hadn't done what you did. Hero crap is only all heroic in comic books. In real life, you get scars." Iruka seemed so uncomfortable about this unveiling that Genma almost wanted to show him the scar under his hairline, where he'd fallen and half scalped himself after a crack overdose. Nothing hero-ey about that shit, just a whole load of personal failure.
He tried a different tack at alleviating Iruka's discomfort. "You know, that scar could do you a lot of good in this business. Makes you stand out."
Iruka stared at him for a moment, disbelief on his face. "Genma, I can't stand out! I'm still working as a teacher. If anyone finds out I'm doing this... that's it. I'm out. LAUSD will forgive a lot of things, but this? Most of my students are Hispanic. Catholic." He shook his head decidedly, picking up his food again. "No way would they forgive this."
“Well, that’s okay then, the parents and school board probably only watch Hispanic, Catholic porn.” Genma rolled his eyes. “Look, Iruka. You’re doing this because that fine school system doesn’t pay you enough to make your bills, right? So throw yourself into it, make some money, and get out. Simple.” He knew it wasn’t that simple, but still. He bent down and dug into one of his bags, coming up with another baggie, this one much smaller. “Step two in Operation Reunion!” he declared, holding it up. “Wanna not care who sees you do what, or what they think?” he asked, wiggling the bag back and forth so that the tiny yellow tablets within bounced around like jumping beans.
Rolling his eyes, Iruka took another sip of his beer. There was more to it than that, but Genma was right. Get in, make some cash, get out - that had been the plan from the beginning. Hopefully with the rest of his life still intact. "As long as I can make it to work Monday morning." He had a good idea of what those little pills were, and frankly, he didn't care. He had agreed, after all, to put whatever Genma gave him in his mouth. Did he want to not care, just for a little while? Yes. Yes he did.
"I did promise, after all." Grinning, Iruka leaned closer and opened his mouth.
“So proud of you.” Genma tipped one out, and then placed it on Iruka’s tongue. “Swallow.” He waited for Iruka to get the tab down. “You want an explanation? You should at least know what to expect first. The first half hour to an hour can be… interesting.”
Iruka tipped his head back and finished his beer. "Will it affect my coordination?" He caught the beginnings of a snicker on the corner of Genma's mouth. "Bite me, Gen," he growled with a smack to Genma's leg. "Ah, forget it. If it fucks me up, you can fetch beer for me." Iruka lay down again, all the way on his back with his arms folded under his head. "If you want to explain, go ahead. But I don't need it. I trust you."
Stupid, stupid move, you vulnerable fuck. We will work on this. Another time. Genma popped in his own pill and crushed it, letting the powder fall under his tongue and mix with his saliva. “I appreciate that, and you know I’ll happily fetch your beer… but you won’t lose any coordination. If anything, you’ll get this launch-thing going on…best way to describe it. By the time you feel it, it’s already almost over, so use that thought to get you through it, if it’s unpleasant.” He shrugged out of the unzipped hoodie and pulled a couple of suckers out. “If you get clenchy…here.”
Iruka had no idea what 'clenchy' involved, but he took the green one and tucked it into his briefs, next to his hip bone. "Okay, intense, maybe bad, but if it's bad, it's almost over. Check." He sighed, shedding his sunglasses and staring up at the sky. A bird flew overhead. Probably looking for somewhere to crap. Like his bike. Which reminded him... "Hey, Genma. How'd you get here? I didn't see a car when I pulled up."
Hmm, Iruka might think this was weird… but, it probably was weird to most people. “Oh, Paul… the guy who owns the house, my client… he lets me use his car too, when he’s gone. Older Jag, really nice. I left it in the garage.” He made his most innocent face at Iruka and batted his eyelashes. “If I ask nice, can I get a ride back whenever we recover enough to leave?” That left out some significant details, but… he wasn’t sure exactly how much Iruka really wanted, or needed to know.
Sinking deeper into the sand, Iruka nodded. "Sure. As long as you don't mind riding behind me. Promise I won't go too fast." Yeah, Genma had mentioned he had use of a car. "So, is he like... your boyfriend, or something?" His mind was skipping around a little, but he could feel the gears starting to spin a little faster.
Aww, hell, here we go. “Nope...rich and successful, but totally not my type. When I call him a client, that’s legit.” Genma tucked his sucker into his cheek. “Well, as legit as someone buying coke from you can get. I’m his dealer. He’s into me for about a grand right now. Hence the house and car, and my making use of whatever else I feel like.”
He suddenly took notice of the sucker tucked into the waistband of Iruka’s briefs. He extricated it and tapped it against Iruka’s lips. “In. Your. Mouth. You feel creepy right now? It’ll help.”
With a grin, Iruka clamped his mouth over the sucker, deliberately nipping Genma's fingers in the bargain. It tasted weird and tickled the back of his throat - but then, it was still in the wrapper. "Happy now?" he said around the thing in his mouth.
“Hey, no biting the hand that feeds,” Genma replied. He quickly switched his own sucker for Iruka’s still-wrapped one. “Hope this is the only thing you attempt to use with the wrapper still on.” He sat up and stared into Iruka’s eyes. Yep, nice huge pupils. “How’s that?”
Iruka made a face, then reached for his green one. "Come on, Genma. I hate cherry." It was disgusting, somehow the taste sharper and even more artificial than he remembered. He smiled when Genma surrendered the green candy, minus the wrapper, and sucked on it for a moment, sighing. "Yeah, better. I feel... hot."
Genma felt considerably less interested in any sort of propriety. “That’s because ya are hot!” he said happily. He felt warm at this point too. “’S’not really a temperature thing, so don’t go running off for the water again. Here,” he handed over some water. “Switch your beer for this for a few.”
"I brought water too. In the cooler." But Iruka took the bottle, chugging half of it around the sucker, and spilling some of that down his chin. "Shit, Genma... you weren't kidding about intense." He needed to move, or run, or something. "Almost over," he mumbled, almost to himself. "Almost over."
“Right. Almost over,” Genma murmured. This was indeed the shittiest part, when your skin crawled and jumped and your pores tried to sweat solids. He leaned over on an elbow, behind Iruka, and slid a hand up the back of his neck. “Ouch, you’re tight. Bite the sucker and chew the stick if it’s that bad,” he suggested, fingers kneading into the tight muscles. “And if being touched is freaking you out right now, say so.”
"No, 'sokay," Iruka gasped, biting down hard on the sucker in his mouth and pushing his head back against Genma's hand. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms, scratching lightly. It helped, a little, so he rubbed harder. "How much longer?"
“In a literal sense, probably five minutes. Won’t seem like that to you, though. So yeah. Almost done.” He carefully unwound a few tangles from Iruka’s hair. It smelled good, so he leaned down to press his face into it… another thing that would have been crossing a boundary, earlier, but seemed like a great idea right now. “You smell awesome. Bet I still smell like olive oil.”
Iruka grabbed onto Genma's arm, pulling it up across his face. "No. You smell like you." He nuzzled the inside of Genma's elbow, sighing again. "I used to dream about you. I'd wake up and I could smell you, but it wasn't you. You weren't there."
Genma dropped his head against Iruka’s shoulder. “Who was it, then?” he asked. “Did you look for people who smelled like me to help put you to sleep?” He tried to be teasing about it, but it sounded very serious and earnest to his own ears. “I used to chase around after this one kid in my photography class because he reminded me of you. Wouldn’t have anything to do with me, it drove me nuts.”
"Hmmm... no. Hard to find girls that look like you, Gen." Iruka's voice was slightly slurred, his heart wasn't trying to break out of his rib cage, and finally, whatever was inside his skin was going to sleep. "And Peter's eyes were nothing like yours." Iruka sighed, his breath evening out. "Really missed you."
Genma slid both arms in around Iruka, enjoying the smooth, warm skin over sharp collarbone. Looking down, he could see Iruka’s pulse, and it seemed far more even. He nosed down against it. “My sisters look like me,” he offered helpfully, bumping against Iruka’s neck. “But I’m sure Peter, whoever he was or is, was nothing close to as awesome as me.” Rather than let Iruka protest or tell him he was wrong, he nosed back further, behind an ear and into the silky strands of hair. “I missed you too. Fucking fierce.”
"Good," Iruka whispered, ghosting his hands along Genma's arms, back and forth. "Would hate to think I was the only one."
---
read on to: Part 2
Note1: Cevapcici is a Croatian dish of minced sausage with spices and other stuff. Sometimes (as in this case) baked inside pastry. Kremsnite are like open-faced cream puffs. Iruka went to high school in San Pedro, CA (south of LA) strangely enough home to a large Croatian community.
Title: Reunion - Pt.1
Who: Iruka, Genma
Where: Topanga Beach
When: Afternoon, Saturday May 10
What: Two old high school friends catch up after an over ten-year separation.
Warnings: NSFW. MA. Language, drug use, generally-unsafe behavior. And sex.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Amazing what a good night's sleep could do for a man’s outlook on life. That, and knowing that he’d be seeing Genma. Iruka was a little nervous about the whole thing, but he figured that was expected. High school had been a long time ago. Genma had been the most important person in Iruka’s life for two years, but ten years was ten years. At least the man was alive, and in his book, that was good news.
It was just after 5pm when Iruka pulled his bike into a driveway near Topanga Beach. He stared at the house for a moment, then smiled. Either Genma had done very well for himself, or they were trespassing. Genma said it was a friend’s place.
Per instructions, Iruka pushed his bike down the driveway and slid it inside a shed. He left the helmet, grabbed his gear, and followed the path to a wooden deck. A cooler held Genma’s sandwich, a few other snacks, water and ice. He had a satchel across his body with a change of clothes, a towel, some sneakers and a sweater. When the sun went down, it would get chilly. He hoped Genma brought blankets, but if not, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d passed out in the sand when they were both too wasted to get home.
Iruka didn’t bother shielding his eyes as he looked across the beach. His Army-issued sunglasses were more than a match for any glare. The water was a little choppy. It was probably still too cold to swim. He scanned the beach, looking for the ugly hat.
Even though Venice Beach was far more convenient, Genma preferred the less polished feel of Topanga. He also liked the fact that his most reliable customer lived here, in a comfortable beach house that he'd let Genma use sometimes, in lieu of paying for his coke. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement, particularly now, when he wanted a comfortable, secluded place to relax and hang out. He didn't really suspect they'd use the house anyhow, so he hauled a collection of old blankets and a couple of teak beach chairs down to the empty fire pit to wait for Iruka.
He had a feeling it wasn't going to be just like old times. Obviously, they were both ten years older and had some mileage. Genma didn't usually make apologies for anything, but he found he regretted the fact that he'd never gotten in touch with Iruka throughout those years. He'd known Iruka had been looking for him, early on...but after a few messages passed along, his mother and sister had stopped trying.
So, this was going to be his attempt to renew that bond. No, it wouldn't be exactly like their all-night benders getting drunk and tag-teaming surfer girls. There was actually this degree of unsurety, carried over from the party the other night. But hopefully he had the remedy for that - music, beer, a bag of weed, a few tabs of ecstacy, and the best intention of, at some point, apologizing for being a dick. Iruka had always been the forgiving type...hopefully, he still was.
Genma looked out from under the brim of his hat as he heard footsteps crunching towards him in the pebbly sand.
"Hey." Not 'hello', or 'hi', or any other greeting. The same sick euphoria he'd felt before started in Iruka's stomach and spread up to his brain. He didn't know what to say, which was just wrong, because he and Genma had always been able to talk. About anything, about nothing. No matter what had happened between them or to them or around them. But now? He just stood there, his hand gripping the cooler a little too tightly.
Genma squinted up at Iruka, who looked almost coplike in those shades. Well, he would've if not for the long hair. And the kind of tentative air about him at the moment. "Don't even tell me you don't have another crack about my hat all ready to go, Iruka. Siddown. Ice the beer. Dunno what you drink now, but I sprang for your old favorite." He stretched out a foot and nudged open one of the paper grocery sack nearby, to reveal a case of PBR in cans.
"Good enough for the beach," Iruka grinned back, relaxing. He hadn't drank that stuff since, well, high school. Several deployments in Germany had ruined him, although he could still put a few Coronas away with his neighbors. "Nice place. Not yours?"
"Ha, I wish." Genma had a momentary worry about how to word his answer to Iruka. "I have a...freelance client, who sometimes lets me use it when he's out of town, and then I knock something off his bill." He rummaged in the other bag. "Lets me drive his Jag too. It's a satisfactory arrangement."
Sinking onto his knees, Iruka set the cooler down and slid his satchel off of his shoulder. "I'm not drunk enough to hear any more. But screw the ice, we've got a damn ocean to do that job." He stripped off his jacket and tossed it over the chair, then began to pull off his boots. "I learned all kinds of hillbilly tricks when I was stuck in Alabama." Inside, Iruka was shaking. The house belonged to Genma's boyfriend, lover, keeper? Because a 'client' would never let a whore drive his car. Or maybe he would. Iruka knew less about prostitution than he did porn.
Genma snickered. "Hillbilly tricks, eh? Why did Dueling Banjos just start playing in my head when you said that?" He pulled a bottle of tea out of the bag. "Do whatever you want with the beer." He felt a really stupid proud smile growing, and bit his lip to keep it back. "I've been sober almost four years now." Then he couldn't help grinning when Iruka gave him that 'bitch, please" look he remembered so well. "Sober as in alcohol-free, I mean. I got something out of rehab."
Iruka leaned over and squeezed Genma's arm. He was feeling the urge to hug again, but he wasn't going to make an idiot out of himself just yet. "That's great, Gen. Really." He smiled, then pulled back, adding socks to the boots, rolling his jeans up a little, and stuffing his feet into the ragged beach sneakers he'd brought along. "I'm gonna go dunk this in the water. Back in a sec."
He'd lasted five minutes in Genma's company and he was already feeling overwhelmed. Maybe he shouldn't be drinking in front of the man, but then, Genma had been at the party, and he seemed okay with it. Shoving the case of beer into the water, Iruka used some straps to secure it, grinning because some enterprising soul with the same idea had pounded a hook into some rocks. He'd have to tell Genma that, for future reference.
Genma sighed as he watched Iruka submerge his beer. He recognized the reaction easily enough...the word 'rehab' was generally enough to make people flee screaming into the night, thinking he was likely to suck the fun right out of their evening. How wrong they were, though. He pulled a ziploc baggie out of his backpack. He'd planned on rolling them nice fat spliffs but the buds were still too intact and sticky, so he pinched a few off and packed them into a small glass pipe instead. By the time Iruka returned, he'd already primed it and lit up. "Don't get thinking I'm all clean-living and shit, Iruka," he said carefully, holding the smoke until it burned and then exhaling. "I just said I quit drinking. I picked up the slack in other areas." He quirked an eyebrow at Iruka and held out the pipe and lighter. When Iruka didn't take it right away, he smiled. "Up to you. Won't kill you nearly as fast as the other kind of smoking."
"I quit those," Iruka mumbled, taking the pipe in his hand. Instead of slumping heavily in the chair across from Genma, Iruka slid down onto the sand and leaned back against the side of the one already occupied. Yeah, he couldn't see much of Genma, but he couldn't take the distance anymore. If he blocked out the sounds of the wind and surf and gulls, he could almost imagine they were back in his apartment, Genma sprawled out on the sofa, Iruka on the floor, handing a joint back and forth. "Well, I kind of had to - hospital rules and all." He chuckled helplessly because he knew Genma had no idea what he meant, then bent his head to suck the bitter smoke into his lungs, hoping he didn't cough. He hadn't smoked this stuff in a while either.
Genma just watched as Iruka held onto the pipe long enough to take a second hit. Good, do whatever makes you feel better, he thought as he took it back, the bowl pleasantly warm in his hand. Iruka was clearly at a loss for some reason, and Genma wasn't sure how to help him with that, or that he even really should. He wasn't high enough to just sit and enjoy the silence yet, so he tapped off some ash and lit up again. "Thanks for asking around after me, Iruka...when I left for school. I should've gotten in touch with you, and I just didn't. I dunno why. But I wish I had. I might not have ended up in mess after fucking mess...you always had a way of rescuing me, or making me feel like enough of a moron to take better care of myself."
Letting the smoke out slowly, Iruka shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. "You're the one who saved me, Genma. After that fight with Uncle... who knows where I would have ended up?" His fingers snuck up under his sunglasses, brushing aside phantom tears before they had a chance to appear. "You were my family, you know? Just you. I'm sorry, it wasn't fair of me to put that on you. And then you were gone, and I had to go. But if I'd known you were in trouble..."
He bent his head backward, looking up at Genma, smiling weakly. "So, what did happen? You were in college, I had just seen you in April, bending some chick over my coffee table. And then... poof."
Genma could feel the wave of Iruka's remembered abandonment, and at the same time he couldn't help but smile at the visual presented. "Yeah, you had great furniture," he said, in a stupid attempt to defuse some of the emotion. Then he saw Iruka's unamused look and sighed. He fished another bud out of the baggie and packed it into the pipe's bowl. "Look, Iruka," he said after a moment. "Be glad I poofed. Getting me out of my forty-five different kinds of trouble just would have dragged you down with me." He hit the pipe again, and this time just leaned back, eyeing Iruka. "And don't look at me like that. You were a kid with potential. I was a kid with a rap sheet and a tendency to blow cock to get out of trouble. All things considered, you did well, from what I can see. And I did better than expected."
"And yet we both ended up at Nixcore. Does that really sound like we're doing okay?" Iruka dropped his head, staring out at the water instead. "I'm not whining, and you're not whining, and you're right, we're both doing well all things considered." He dropped his legs out in front of him and bent over, his hands easily clearing his toes, groaning slightly, then stood up, brushing the sand off his butt. "I'm gonna check the beer. Oh, I brought snacks, too. Keep smoking this shit and we're gonna need 'em." Iruka grinned down at Genma, then snatched the hat from Genma's head and took off running.
It took Genma several seconds to realize that Iruka had just done a complete 180, from emotional to bastard in the blink of an eye. Okay, he was used to operating high, but his reaction time was down - that was some good shit they were smoking.
"Asshole! You'll be sorry you did that!" he yelled into the wind as he hauled himself up and started after Iruka, the sand shifting under his feet. Even as he did this, he realized something. If his reflexes were compromised, and he smoked all the time...he plunked back down in the sand laughing, hoping to witness a total Iruka-bailout into the surf.
Iruka was used to running, it was something he did often. He rather enjoyed it, especially on the beach. But not in clunky old Converse with ragged laces half-tied, and certainly not stoned on some of the best pot he'd had in a decade. His leg went one way, the rest of his body went the other, and it was just Iruka's bad luck a large wave picked that moment to roll in. He came up choking and spitting cold salt water out of his mouth, sunglasses askew, and Genma's hat clutched tightly in his hand, because if he had to choose, he'd pick Genma's hat over his sunglasses.
Rolling over, Iruka crawled through the water to the beer, lifting out two cans with one hand, then staggered back over to Genma, dripping wet. "Don't even start, Mr. VooDoo Hat Person," he growled, shoving the hat down on Genma's head. At least he wouldn't be the only wet person there. "It was time for a swim anyway."
Genma let cold, sandy water drip down his face and neck as he tipped backwards, laughing and snorting. “Of all the shit I’ve seen without a camera on me…” he gasped. “That deserves a prize.” He reached out and grasped Iruka’s ankle, as if somehow this could convey the affection he felt right now. Even if they did nothing else the entire evening… things seemed closer to being right again.
Closer, but not perfect. “I’m hungry,” Genma realized aloud. “Please tell me you brought food in that cooler, and your other career isn’t delivering chilled organs fresh out of some hotel bathtub.”
Only around Genma, could Iruka even think the words he was thinking, much less say them deliberately, knowing how it sounded. "Sorry, I'm fresh out of kidneys today, but I've got a footlong in there with your name on it. Just tell me where you want it." Of course, being able to say it and being able to say it without blushing were two different things as well, but he was used to blushing so he barreled on with a grin. "Or would you rather just lie back and let me shove it down your throat?"
Genma just stared at Iruka for a moment, and he could feel one of his eyes twitching as he processed what Iruka had just said. And when things caught up with each other, it registered as a challenge he really could not pass up. “Shove away, Iruka. I’m all about you being forceful,” he said deliberately. He hoped the slow lip movements looked properly lewd. Possibly making Iruka blush more was a challenge in itself.
Defeated, Iruka shook his head and laughed, clambering to his feet to snag the cooler. "What is it about you that brings out the punk in me?" He pulled out the sandwich, double-wrapped, and handed it over with a grin. "Chow down." Of course, he neglected to mention the fact that he'd doctored the thing to make sure he didn't end up the wrong end of it. Again.
Genma wrinkled his nose before he even got the sandwich open. "Well. I'll be safe from vampires for the next several days, anyhow," he commented. Then he carelessly undid the paper wrapping. Not that careful would have made a difference. No sooner than the paper had peeled away from the sandwich than a greasy chain reaction of meat, vegetables, and bread cascaded from his hands and all the way down his chest and into his lap. Someone had apparently attempted to stick the sandwich contents together with caper mayonnaise, but no dice. All that stuck was salami and a slice of avocado. To his forearm.
Defeated by a sandwich. Well, and by Iruka. Genma had to give him his due. "Thank you for the lapful of meat, Iruka," Genma said, carefully peeling up a slice. "It's just what I...always wanted."
Iruka shrugged and pulled out a few more containers of food. But he couldn't hide the snickers, his eyes darting back and forth between Genma covered in sandwich and the food still in the cooler. Pressing his lips together, Iruka took a few deep breaths so he could answer. "You always did like to play with your food. Nice to see some things never change."
Genma experimented with a bit of bell pepper from his shirt. "You know, this thing probably tasted good, before I was wearing it." He stood up and shook the food off, kicking sand over it. "It's not gonna smell good for very long, though. Gonna go and mooch some of Paul's clothes." He started towards the long open stairway to the house, and then turned. "Need anything from inside?"
"Nope. I came prepared." Iruka was already on his feet, stripping off his shirt and arranging it over the back of the chair. They had several hours of sun left, it was still warm. Hopefully his clothes would be dry by the time he needed to get dressed again. He didn't really consider it might be awkward or weird to undress right there, it was just Genma after all. But he was careful to keep himself facing foward, turning as Genma moved, because he wasn't quite ready to discuss the mass of scar tissue on his back. And his eyes did narrow briefly at the mention of Paul, whoever Paul might be.
Wet jeans soon followed the black tshirt, leaving Iruka in the black low-cut briefs he favored. Those would be staying on because he hadn't thought to bring swim trunks with him. He dried his hair with the towel, spread it out on the sand near Genma's chair, then cleaned off the sandwich mess and salvaged what he could, chuckling. Beer nearby, sunglasses cleaned and back in place, and one more thing to do before Genma got back. Iruka reached into the bottom of the cooler and pulled out his peace offering - cevapcici and kremsnite (Note1). They weren't the best in the world, but Iruka thought he'd done a fair job of recreating the Croatian pastries. Finally, he popped open his first beer and lay back on his elbows, watching the waves.
Most of the clothes inside weren't to Genma's lowkey thrift store tastes, but he finally found a pair of jeans that fit, and a zip-front, both of which probably cost more than his monthly rent. He left both undone as he let himself back out of the house...who knew, at this rate they'd both probably end up back in the surf again. He caught sight of Iruka stretched out on a towel and whistled. "Like you have to tan. Fag." He walked a slow circle around Iruka. "Hmm, you look good, though. I can almost forgive you for abusing my hat and making me wear my food."
Then he caught sight of the plate of pastries and did a double take. "What the... oh, my fucking god... is that..." Without pausing for more introspection, he immediately grabbed one of the sugar-dusted puffs and took a careful bite. "Oooh, my god... it is..." He tried to integrate the total mouth orgasm with the fact that he was about to weep from joy, gave up, and kept eating reverently.
Iruka snickered and aimed a lazy kick at Genma's ankle as he walked by. "Fag yourself, fag. I wear sunblock." That word didn't bother him coming from Genma. He lifted the sunglasses up with a grin when his friend pounced on the food. "It's not Ante's, but I think they came out pretty good. I must have changed Mrs. Paleta's oil like seventeen times before she coughed up the recipe." Inside he was squirming happily. There was something very satisfying about watching Genma eat something he'd cooked. He opened another beer before he said something sappy or stupid and popped his sunglasses back down. "Save me some sausage. Been a while since I've had meat."
Genma choked and spit out some kremsnite at Iruka's comment... how the hell did he DO that with a straight face... but no way was he losing out on homecooked Croat food, so he popped it back in his mouth and finished it anyhow, not giving half a shit if that was gross. He knew he'd regret not hopping on the sausage comment, but oh well. There'd probably be another opening later. "You gonna eat anything? 'Cause I have something for you to throw down on top of your food. You'll like it, promise."
"Hmmm? Oh, yeah. I forgot I was hungry." Iruka sat up and pulled out some plastic chopsticks from his bag, then popped open one of the containers displaying a multi-cultural bento. "Onigiri, fried tofu with hoisin sauce, cha gio, chilled spinach and seaweed salad..." He shrugged and laughed again. "I went vegan a while back." He leaned one elbow on his knee as he sat cross-legged to eat. "Looks like I'll need to quit that. I look like a twig compared to some of those guys at the party." Iruka ducked his head, frowning a little. "Actually, compared to most of them. Shit. I hate lifting weights, too."
"Lifting weights is overrated. I don't do it...unless you count lifting whatever may be sitting on my dick," Genma grinned. He flopped down on a blanket and licked the sugar and butter off his fingers. "And relax, you look great. You look like you." Genma figured Iruka would have no idea what he meant by this, and that was okay. Even if he came right out and bludgeoned Iruka over the head with it, he'd probably just laugh it off. He tilted his head and looked more critically. "You are a little on the thin side." Suddenly he remembered something Iruka had said about being in the hospital. "Are you sick?" he asked bluntly.
Iruka hoped he'd only cringed internally. But he couldn't hide it forever. "No, not sick," he said cautiously, setting his food down and covering it carefully. Best to start with the worst part. "Don't freak out, okay?" An opening almost guaranteed to cause a freak-out, but Iruka didn't know how else to word it. Slowly, he turned around, leaning forward a little to catch his hair and keep it from blowing. He wondered what Genma would see. He knew what he saw in the mirror - an ugly mass of scar tissue, in the center of his back, with smaller tendrils snaking out to form an almost-star shape. After seeing this, the one on his arm would be nothing.
Genma didn't say anything at first. The rest of Iruka's skin was so smooth that the contrast of the scar was shocking, but something about it... he forgot that he'd just taken his fingers out of his mouth and traced his right thumb and forefinger lightly across the runnels and whorls of the scar. It made him want to take photos of Iruka's back - graceful and a little alien, now. "What happened?" he asked.
"I'd just started working as a teacher's aide at a middle school. Just got out of the Army." Iruka's voice was calm, a little dull. He'd told the story before, but he knew if he relived it, he would break down. Because he'd been so hopeful and excited, and then it all went to hell in the span of fifteen minutes. "It was after school and I walked into a classroom to deliver something." His hands were clenched on his knees, and he shivered when Genma's fingers hit a sensitive spot. "I caught a teacher assaulting a student. I pulled the guy away, figured he'd run off or something. I never expected him to pull a knife."
Iruka twisted a little, displaying the puncture on his thigh, then his forearm. "He got me here first, and I put my hand up, so he slashed down and I fell. Then he went after the kid again, this time with the knife. And... I snapped. He was just a kid, like eleven or twelve. Hadn't even hit puberty. I got up and threw myself between them, because it was all I could think to do. So he stabbed me, and kept stabbing me. Slicing down, because I wouldn't move, no way in hell was I going to move and let him kill some little boy like that." Iruka let out a shaky sigh and smiled up at Genma. Lopsided, but it was a smile. "I nearly died. Would have died, except that little kid, he took off, and I thought he ran for it, so I stopped fighting. But just before I passed out, I saw the guy stagger. That little kid had picked up a fucking table and brought it down so hard..." Now he smiled, remembering the awe he'd felt. "Still had his pants around his knees. I tried to play hero, but he ended up saving us both."
"Saved by a middle-schooler," Genma mused. "Rough schools, anymore." He stopped tracing the scar when Iruka shuddered a little. He lightly tapped Iruka's shoulder, getting his attention. "Kid couldn't have done what he did if you hadn't done what you did. Hero crap is only all heroic in comic books. In real life, you get scars." Iruka seemed so uncomfortable about this unveiling that Genma almost wanted to show him the scar under his hairline, where he'd fallen and half scalped himself after a crack overdose. Nothing hero-ey about that shit, just a whole load of personal failure.
He tried a different tack at alleviating Iruka's discomfort. "You know, that scar could do you a lot of good in this business. Makes you stand out."
Iruka stared at him for a moment, disbelief on his face. "Genma, I can't stand out! I'm still working as a teacher. If anyone finds out I'm doing this... that's it. I'm out. LAUSD will forgive a lot of things, but this? Most of my students are Hispanic. Catholic." He shook his head decidedly, picking up his food again. "No way would they forgive this."
“Well, that’s okay then, the parents and school board probably only watch Hispanic, Catholic porn.” Genma rolled his eyes. “Look, Iruka. You’re doing this because that fine school system doesn’t pay you enough to make your bills, right? So throw yourself into it, make some money, and get out. Simple.” He knew it wasn’t that simple, but still. He bent down and dug into one of his bags, coming up with another baggie, this one much smaller. “Step two in Operation Reunion!” he declared, holding it up. “Wanna not care who sees you do what, or what they think?” he asked, wiggling the bag back and forth so that the tiny yellow tablets within bounced around like jumping beans.
Rolling his eyes, Iruka took another sip of his beer. There was more to it than that, but Genma was right. Get in, make some cash, get out - that had been the plan from the beginning. Hopefully with the rest of his life still intact. "As long as I can make it to work Monday morning." He had a good idea of what those little pills were, and frankly, he didn't care. He had agreed, after all, to put whatever Genma gave him in his mouth. Did he want to not care, just for a little while? Yes. Yes he did.
"I did promise, after all." Grinning, Iruka leaned closer and opened his mouth.
“So proud of you.” Genma tipped one out, and then placed it on Iruka’s tongue. “Swallow.” He waited for Iruka to get the tab down. “You want an explanation? You should at least know what to expect first. The first half hour to an hour can be… interesting.”
Iruka tipped his head back and finished his beer. "Will it affect my coordination?" He caught the beginnings of a snicker on the corner of Genma's mouth. "Bite me, Gen," he growled with a smack to Genma's leg. "Ah, forget it. If it fucks me up, you can fetch beer for me." Iruka lay down again, all the way on his back with his arms folded under his head. "If you want to explain, go ahead. But I don't need it. I trust you."
Stupid, stupid move, you vulnerable fuck. We will work on this. Another time. Genma popped in his own pill and crushed it, letting the powder fall under his tongue and mix with his saliva. “I appreciate that, and you know I’ll happily fetch your beer… but you won’t lose any coordination. If anything, you’ll get this launch-thing going on…best way to describe it. By the time you feel it, it’s already almost over, so use that thought to get you through it, if it’s unpleasant.” He shrugged out of the unzipped hoodie and pulled a couple of suckers out. “If you get clenchy…here.”
Iruka had no idea what 'clenchy' involved, but he took the green one and tucked it into his briefs, next to his hip bone. "Okay, intense, maybe bad, but if it's bad, it's almost over. Check." He sighed, shedding his sunglasses and staring up at the sky. A bird flew overhead. Probably looking for somewhere to crap. Like his bike. Which reminded him... "Hey, Genma. How'd you get here? I didn't see a car when I pulled up."
Hmm, Iruka might think this was weird… but, it probably was weird to most people. “Oh, Paul… the guy who owns the house, my client… he lets me use his car too, when he’s gone. Older Jag, really nice. I left it in the garage.” He made his most innocent face at Iruka and batted his eyelashes. “If I ask nice, can I get a ride back whenever we recover enough to leave?” That left out some significant details, but… he wasn’t sure exactly how much Iruka really wanted, or needed to know.
Sinking deeper into the sand, Iruka nodded. "Sure. As long as you don't mind riding behind me. Promise I won't go too fast." Yeah, Genma had mentioned he had use of a car. "So, is he like... your boyfriend, or something?" His mind was skipping around a little, but he could feel the gears starting to spin a little faster.
Aww, hell, here we go. “Nope...rich and successful, but totally not my type. When I call him a client, that’s legit.” Genma tucked his sucker into his cheek. “Well, as legit as someone buying coke from you can get. I’m his dealer. He’s into me for about a grand right now. Hence the house and car, and my making use of whatever else I feel like.”
He suddenly took notice of the sucker tucked into the waistband of Iruka’s briefs. He extricated it and tapped it against Iruka’s lips. “In. Your. Mouth. You feel creepy right now? It’ll help.”
With a grin, Iruka clamped his mouth over the sucker, deliberately nipping Genma's fingers in the bargain. It tasted weird and tickled the back of his throat - but then, it was still in the wrapper. "Happy now?" he said around the thing in his mouth.
“Hey, no biting the hand that feeds,” Genma replied. He quickly switched his own sucker for Iruka’s still-wrapped one. “Hope this is the only thing you attempt to use with the wrapper still on.” He sat up and stared into Iruka’s eyes. Yep, nice huge pupils. “How’s that?”
Iruka made a face, then reached for his green one. "Come on, Genma. I hate cherry." It was disgusting, somehow the taste sharper and even more artificial than he remembered. He smiled when Genma surrendered the green candy, minus the wrapper, and sucked on it for a moment, sighing. "Yeah, better. I feel... hot."
Genma felt considerably less interested in any sort of propriety. “That’s because ya are hot!” he said happily. He felt warm at this point too. “’S’not really a temperature thing, so don’t go running off for the water again. Here,” he handed over some water. “Switch your beer for this for a few.”
"I brought water too. In the cooler." But Iruka took the bottle, chugging half of it around the sucker, and spilling some of that down his chin. "Shit, Genma... you weren't kidding about intense." He needed to move, or run, or something. "Almost over," he mumbled, almost to himself. "Almost over."
“Right. Almost over,” Genma murmured. This was indeed the shittiest part, when your skin crawled and jumped and your pores tried to sweat solids. He leaned over on an elbow, behind Iruka, and slid a hand up the back of his neck. “Ouch, you’re tight. Bite the sucker and chew the stick if it’s that bad,” he suggested, fingers kneading into the tight muscles. “And if being touched is freaking you out right now, say so.”
"No, 'sokay," Iruka gasped, biting down hard on the sucker in his mouth and pushing his head back against Genma's hand. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms, scratching lightly. It helped, a little, so he rubbed harder. "How much longer?"
“In a literal sense, probably five minutes. Won’t seem like that to you, though. So yeah. Almost done.” He carefully unwound a few tangles from Iruka’s hair. It smelled good, so he leaned down to press his face into it… another thing that would have been crossing a boundary, earlier, but seemed like a great idea right now. “You smell awesome. Bet I still smell like olive oil.”
Iruka grabbed onto Genma's arm, pulling it up across his face. "No. You smell like you." He nuzzled the inside of Genma's elbow, sighing again. "I used to dream about you. I'd wake up and I could smell you, but it wasn't you. You weren't there."
Genma dropped his head against Iruka’s shoulder. “Who was it, then?” he asked. “Did you look for people who smelled like me to help put you to sleep?” He tried to be teasing about it, but it sounded very serious and earnest to his own ears. “I used to chase around after this one kid in my photography class because he reminded me of you. Wouldn’t have anything to do with me, it drove me nuts.”
"Hmmm... no. Hard to find girls that look like you, Gen." Iruka's voice was slightly slurred, his heart wasn't trying to break out of his rib cage, and finally, whatever was inside his skin was going to sleep. "And Peter's eyes were nothing like yours." Iruka sighed, his breath evening out. "Really missed you."
Genma slid both arms in around Iruka, enjoying the smooth, warm skin over sharp collarbone. Looking down, he could see Iruka’s pulse, and it seemed far more even. He nosed down against it. “My sisters look like me,” he offered helpfully, bumping against Iruka’s neck. “But I’m sure Peter, whoever he was or is, was nothing close to as awesome as me.” Rather than let Iruka protest or tell him he was wrong, he nosed back further, behind an ear and into the silky strands of hair. “I missed you too. Fucking fierce.”
"Good," Iruka whispered, ghosting his hands along Genma's arms, back and forth. "Would hate to think I was the only one."
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read on to: Part 2
Note1: Cevapcici is a Croatian dish of minced sausage with spices and other stuff. Sometimes (as in this case) baked inside pastry. Kremsnite are like open-faced cream puffs. Iruka went to high school in San Pedro, CA (south of LA) strangely enough home to a large Croatian community.