Diverted, Part 7

Nov 19, 2014 19:51

~~AT LAST!~~  It is finished.
(omg how do I LJ cut.  lol, really flexing the old muscles here.)

Rating: PG
Pairing: Akihiko/Minato
Spoilers: None


Akihiko’s body melted into the kiss, not stopping to question the suddenness or complete irrationality of Minato’s change of heart.  His hands, having barely behaved themselves all afternoon, immediately seized the opportunity to bury themselves in Minato’s thick shock of hair.  Tilted forward, he was held up mostly by Minato’s mouth against his, and the firm grip the other boy had on his vest.

Minato used his grip to settle Akihiko back onto his heels, their lips separating with a soft pop.  He couldn’t control the smile that bloomed across his face.

Akihiko remained frozen where he was placed, arms still outstretched, the only sign of life his eyelashes fluttering softly against his cheeks.

His eyes slowly peeled open.  Minato gazed up at him, watching him look downward hazily and begin to register where he, and his hands, were.

Akihiko released Minato’s head as if it was on fire and scrambled backwards across the room with a look of shock on his face.  In his panic, he almost fell over the desk chair.  Grabbing tipsily onto the back of it, he swung himself and the chair around, pointing it back at Minato like some sort of protective barrier.

Minato looked skeptical.  “Really?  A chair?”

“You did that!  Not me!” exclaimed Akihiko.

“Yes,” agreed Minato calmly.

Akihiko kept brandishing the chair at him, not acknowledging or even seeming to hear his reply.  “That wasn’t, I didn’t mean -”  He took an agitated breath, eyes flitting in every direction but Minato’s.

“I’m sorry, about my hands,” he continued with barely a pause.  “I can’t make them stay where I tell them to!”  Akihiko glared at his hands, balling them into fists and shoving them behind his back in punishment.

“But you -” he tried again, “That was….  It doesn’t -.”  He broke off, slumping in frustration.

Taking a deep breath, he burst out, “...*You* kissed *me*!”  An arm jabbed out to point emphatically at Minato and then at himself.

“Yes, I did.”

Minato stood up slowly, so as not to alarm him further, but Akihiko hadn’t stopped his anxious babbling long enough to notice.

“Maybe I should go.” He nodded in swift agreement with himself, half turning to face the door and having to grab onto the chair again for balance.  “The team might be suspicious, or want to know how you’re doing, or, or…”  Akihiko trailed off nervously as he realized Minato was now standing just beyond his chair-shield.

Minato gently pried one hand, then the other, off the back of the desk chair.  Gazing straight at Akihiko, he pushed the chair sideways and stepped forward into the gap it had occupied.  Still refusing look up, Akihiko’s head followed the chair, watching it roll to a stop several feet away.

“And how *am* I doing?” Minato asked softly.

Akihiko shrugged noncommittally, the gesture awkward because Minato still held his left hand by the wrist.  It remained clenched in the same curl of tension, as if imagining the desk chair back to deflect these lines of questioning.

“Akihiko...”  Minato’s voice was warm and low and velvety, an infusion of support rather than a question.

The silver-haired boy took an anguished breath, and kept staring towards the chair.

Minato smoothed the fingers straight and laced them together with his.  “Look at me,” he insisted quietly, “and tell me how I’m doing.”

Akihiko swallowed and finally lifted his eyes.  Minato practically glowed.

“But you were angry,” Akihiko protested, brows still knit in consternation.

“And now?”

Akihiko shook his head helplessly.

Minato smiled patiently, and waited.

Akihiko had fought so hard before because he knew he’d be unable to look away.  His eyes traced the blue strands framing Minato’s face, a halo sidelit as the sun began to angle directly through the windows.

When it became clear Minato was going to wait him out, Akihiko sighed and then shrugged in concession.

“...You look happy,” he said simply.

Minato nodded, still smiling.  After a moment of beaming, he looked down shyly at their paired hands, tracing the side of Akihiko’s index finger with his thumb.  “So, if you really *want*, you could go check in with the team.

“Or maybe,” he peered through his eyelashes, his voice low, “you could stay here.  With me.”

Minato’s hopeful gaze worked its way up to Akihiko's, but it was clear that he hadn't succeeded in breaking through.  The older boy stared back at him unconvinced, sadness and confusion warring on his face.

“But, you kissed me!" he repeated.

Minato sighed in defeat.

“On purpose!” Akihiko added insistently.

“So?” replied Minato, a bit of impatience creeping into his voice.

“After you -”  Akihiko pulled his hand free and dragged it over his skull in bewilderment.  “You yelled at me about *my* ‘master plan,’ and then you...”  He gestured at Minato, searching for words to encompass his behavior.  “...went to some weird happy place without me!”

“You’re not getting it,” chided Minato gently.

“And *you're* not making any sense!” cried Akihiko.  His agitation was raising the tension in the room.

“I’m *trying* to show you,” returned Minato, trying to not clench his teeth.  “If you would just calm down long enough to -”

Akihiko interrupted, “Now *I'm* the one overreacting?!”

They faced off, glaring at one another.

Minato was starting to lose his cool.  “Well, maybe you are!” he pronounced.

“You told me I needed to COMMIT!” accused Akihiko.

“Well, now I think you just need to shut up for a minute!”

Akihiko recoiled in offense.

Angry at how terribly the conversation had gone awry, Minato finally snapped.  With a near snarl he lunged at Akihiko, grabbing his collar in both hands.  His momentum crashed them backwards into the desk but Minato didn’t seem to care.  His mouth descended on Akihiko’s, their teeth colliding sharply as he cut off Akihiko’s startled cry.

Minato poured all his frustration into the kiss, everything he’d been attempting and failing to convey to Akihiko.  It was more a kiss to be weathered than participated in, so he couldn’t really tell how Akihiko was responding - but in the moment, all he cared about was proving his point.  The future would take care of itself.

For all his earlier fierceness, Minato ended gently, disengaging his teeth from Akihiko’s upper lip and soothing the spot with a kiss as he departed.

Akihiko was caught half perched on the edge of the desk, half bent backwards over it, elbows and palms thrown in different directions to hold himself up.  He slipped down an inch or two as Minato shifted back, letting his feet reach the ground again, but looked no less disheveled for it.

Minato wrenched his hips sideways to untangle his clothing from Akihiko’s belt, and took a half step backwards.

"Now,” he growled, eyes blazing.  “That’s how *I* feel, but this is your choice.  There’s the door, are you staying or are you leaving?”

Silence reigned like the calm after the storm.  Akihiko cautiously levered himself upright.  His eyes were rounder than Minato had ever seen them, and his sweater vest had slid off one shoulder.

He cleared his throat carefully.  “I - I’m staying.”  He fought hard to end it as a statement, but he couldn’t keep his eyebrows from floating up into question marks.

“Okay, then.”  Minato nodded brusquely.  “Good.”  He reached forward to straighten Akihiko’s clothing, fussing awkwardly as if in guilt for having caused the disarray in the first place.  His ferocity was starting to burn out, replaced by embarrassment and roiling uncertainty.

His hands dropped back to his sides.  “I guess I owe you an apology then.  For all this.”

“Maybe just...an explanation?” offered Akihiko.  “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

Minato’s expression was rapidly closing off, mortification closing in over his eyes.

“Hey,” interjected Akihiko, “why don’t we sit down, yeah?”  He gestured Minato forward with a foot-long buffer of air, afraid to touch him lest he provoke some other extreme reaction.

Minato nodded and went to sit on the bed, against the back wall with his knees curled tightly to his chest.  Akihiko sat gingerly on the other end.

Minato buried his entire face against his legs and wrapped his arms over his head. “What do you want to know?” came the muffled question.

For once Akihiko was free from the temptation to stare at Minato, but at the moment he was struggling to not curl into a sympathetic ball of misery himself.  Instead he stared at the bedspread, tracing the stripes of bright light and shade thrown by the window frame.

He cleared his throat again, just so Minato wouldn't think he was trying the silent treatment.

“Well.  Um.  ...*Are* you mad at me?”

“Nooo,” came the tremulous answer.

“Okay.  That's good.”  He paused.  “ ‘Cause...I couldn't really tell,” he admitted.

“You *were* mad at me at first…  And then you were kissing me, then you were pissed off AND kissing me, and now you’re hiding.”  Akihiko shrugged in exasperation.  “I don’t know whether to believe the you that says I’m devious and manipulative, or the you that says ‘stay and make out with me!’”

Minato made an aggrieved noise but didn’t say anything.

“Everything you said about me was justified,” Akihiko continued.  “But...also very confusing.”

“I know that,” warbled Minato without raising his head.  “Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you.  You can still leave if you want, we don’t have to keep talking about this.”

Silence fell over the room again.  Akihiko gazed thoughtfully at the crown of blue hair facing him.  Minato hugged his legs tighter, bracing for the response.

When Akihiko finally spoke, it was quiet, almost as if to himself.  “I was so afraid I’d ruined everything...  You are too important to me - to all of us - for me to risk that.  Whatever it looked like, I would never take advantage of you.”

Akihiko looked down at his hands.  “You’re just...hard to resist,” he muttered fervently.

Minato raised his head slightly.

Akihiko blundered bravely on.  “And I tried, but I *can't*.  I mean, GOD, I kissed you in a bathroom - and I’d do it again.  So is tackling me onto a desk *really* something to be embarrassed about?”

In his fervor, Akihiko spun towards the other boy, forgetting about his facade of speaking into the room instead of at Minato.

“Especially when I *liked* it!”  He smacked an open palm on the bed in frustration.  “So can we be over this already, or what?!”

He cut off abruptly, remembering he had been trying to *not* pressure Minato further.  He faced outward again, gesticulating hands falling back into his lap.

“So, um.  *That’s* how *I* feel.”

Akihiko was nodding faintly and seemed unable to stop.  The room fell quiet again.

He had no idea what he was going to do, if his little soliloquy failed to bring Minato around.

“For the record, I never said ‘stay and make out with me’,” observed Minato, now sitting upright.

Akihiko snapped back towards the other boy, breathless and hopeful.

Minato foundered for a moment, ducking his head under the scrutiny, but he held up and smiled, nodding in affirmation.

“You didn’t?”  Akihiko slid closer along the front edge of the bed.  “I *must* have misheard that then…” he pronounced in mock seriousness.

“Well, I’m just glad we got all that settled!”  He winked at Minato, who stifled a giggle.  “But…” he shrugged overdramatically, “if you *didn’t* ask me to stay, I guess I need to get going…”

“Akihiko.”  Minato’s somber voice sliced through his goofy chatter.

Coldness smashed into Akihiko like a Bufudyne.  “Yeah?” he asked instantaneously.

Minato gazed at him with wide, solemn eyes.  “You should stay and make out with me.”

Too ecstatic to be mad, Akihiko leaped eagerly across the bed before the offer could be retracted.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Click here to continue to epilogue.

diverted, fiction

Previous post Next post
Up