Epidemic (1/3)
Title: Epidemic (1/3)
Genre: Crack/Romance/Wtf :D
Warnings: My shit spelling. Some gay.
Rating: From 1 to 5, I give it an free coffee.
Pairings: UruhaxAoi, ReitaxRuki
Synopsis: "It's not an 'epidemic' if it only affects about thirty otherwise unaffiliated people in the entire world."
Comments: The ramblings of sleepless pervert.
"It's not an 'epidemic' if it only affects about thirty otherwise unaffiliated people in the entire world."
"Only thirty now, but it'll only get worse from here."
Uruha--a tall, blonde twenty year old who very much did not wear glasses--wanted nothing more than to lower his imaginary spectacles for a dramatically disbelieving stare, "Oh, is that so? And what are you now, clairvoyant?"
His co-worker--a rather short, well-pierced nineteen year old-- rolled his eyes, or at least the one that was not hidden beneath a wave of well-styled brown hair, "It could happen."
"Sure," the blond deadpanned. "If you live in a movie."
Ruki grinned wickedly, "Well now I know what kind of movies you've been watching."
Uruha picked up an errantly placed menu and smacked him.
"Fuck you," the younger defended, trying to check the status of his hair with his hands.
The elder made to comment, but before he could push it out, the small TV in the corner had caught his attention again. Stretchers were rolling out bodies to a muted symphony of hysteric onlookers, in their wake stood a crater of sizeable proportions. At the bottom of the screen in white closed captioned text remained the topic headline: SEXORMAHDEDFELLIA: NATURE'S TIME BOMB. However, now a discomforting addition had been made: UPDATE: TEN SUSPECTED DEAD AT SHOPPING OUTLET IN HAKONE, DOZENS WOUNDED.
"It's creepy," he muttered quietly. "Those people had no idea..."
Ruki grunted, "And to think, my parents were enraged when they found out how much I sleep around. You'd think they'd be greatful."
Uruha balked, "You know you lack every endearing quality a parent could find in a son, right?"
A careless shrug. "Anyway, only ugly people get that Sexophilia... Sexomalia... Whatever the fuck it is."
The blond was staring over his imaginary glasses again with blatant amusement, "Oh really? You read that in Popular Science, I suspect?"
"It's just a personal observation of mine."
"Fascinating."
Sensing his co-worker was not going to take the piss with him this evening, Ruki eyed the clock on the wall above the hostess stand, "So you comin' out with us tonight or what?"
Us. Uruha sighed and looked away from the TV, wiping at his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He knew who and what us meant. Us meant bar hopping with Reita and the random, miscellaneous strays the strange, nose-banded boy always dragged around. It meant entertaining the weirdo friends who tried to hit on him while watching Reita and Ruki suck face--amoung other things--in every different setting they could find. It meant half-carrying Ruki home, stopping to vomit on random street corners and finally pissing himself under the elder Mr. Takashima's penetrating stare while he assured him that: No, he had not defiled his son. But yes, someone out there had.
He only had one choice: "Nah. I only slept about two hours last night, and I'm ready to fall over."
"Oh?" Ruki smirked, "Up all night with your honey, were you?"
The blond laughed, "Replaying Resident Evil."
"And how is our dear Alice doing these days?"
Uruha shook his head with wistfully, "Every bit as beautiful as the day we met."
Ruki grinned amusedly, "You live a sad life."
The elder glanced at the TV one final time, "At least I'm still living one."
A moment passed.
"Really, when you think about it, it's the ultimate virgin revenge. You're ugly, no one will bang you, explode and take a bunch of oversexed whores at the Peach John outlet with you."
"I find you incredibly repulsive and offending."
"It's like nature's way of flicking the fleas off of her back."
Uruha really needed some glasses just for these arguments, "You do realize that people with Sexormahdedfellia do not just spontaneously explode, right?"
There was a momentary look of confusion in brown eyes before the younger boy glanced back at the TV.
"If you have it, and you don't have sex, your pituitary gland shuts down when you turn twenty-one. Then you break out in scary, bleedy rashes, lose all of your cortisol and die."
"Oh. Well that's stupid and completely unrealistic."
"I know. This person--" Uruha pointed at the ongoing news coverage on the TV, "--just decided to go out with a bang and drag a bunch of innocent people with him. The ultimate virgin revenge, as you so delicately called it."
Before the younger boy could think of a response, the door chime jingled and a middle aged couple stepped in quietly. He was out of the booth where the two of them always sat when the restaraunt was dead, grabbing his jacket and phone, "I'm gonna' duck out early. Don't forget to sign me out, ok!"
Uruha watched him run out without a word, grabbing up two menus and showing the couple to a seat. Ruki was always sneaking off early and leaving him to close up on his own in silence. Sure, his younger co-worker was somewhat spoiled and ignorant, but somewhere beneath his abrasive speech and self-centered tendencies, deep down near the trenches of his bowel and prostate, a tiny light of humanity flickered and drew Uruha in--not literally, but certainly as a metaphor for friendliness.
Finding himself suddenly uncomfortable with his own thoughts, he started putting away table settings in boring, awkward silence. At least it was only about an hour until closing.
Just as he was waving the middle aged couple out the door and bidding them a good evening, prepared to sit and flip through his e-mail mindlessly for the last fifteen minutes until closing, a young man appeared. He stepped in quietly, glancing around the tiny, empty restaraunt almost timidly.
Shit. Hopefully he was just asking directions or something. Uruha had completely finished closing up, and he could feel anxiety from the kitchen staff, too, all three remaining employees ready to close up and get out for the night.
"Are you still open?" The man asked.
Uruha bit his lip. He could tell the truth and be stuck here serving this poor guy for the next 30-45 minutes, and get abandoned to lock up by himself half-way through it, or he could lie and everyone could just go home early.
The man began to frown after a moment, sensing some sort of deliberation, and took a step backward towards the door,
"Sorry, it's alright. I can find somepla--"
"We're open." Fuck. Who was he kidding? He had always been shit at lying.
The man paused, "Oh... But, I mean, if you were about to close, I understand. It's just, I..." He drifted off as if edited what he'd been about to say, "Chinese sounded good."
The tall blond waiter forced a smile, reaching over to grab a menu, "It's no problem. This way, please."
The man followed him to a random table, sitting his slender frame delicately in the seat and pulling back long locks of black hair to better see the laminated card placed before him.
"Our special today is the two-entree set, which comes with rice, soup--"
"What's the best thing on the menu?" Brown eyes looked up, some kind of intent burning behind them.
Uruha paused, "Um... Well, there are a number of good items--"
"Just bring me the best thing you have. I don't care about the price." The customer handed the menu over eagerly, "And champagne. I would really like some champagne."
The waiter frowned, taking the menu slowly from the man in front of him. He was not sure of how old the man in front of his was, but if he was in fact a man it was not by much. But he was not about to get slighted by some nineteen year old, "Do you have some kind of ID?"
The brunett looked momentarily bewildered and then quickly began fumbling around in his pockets, "You're a rare one. I don't think I've ever been carded before."
"It's not you. It's just, my boss would have a problem with it if he were to walk in."
"No, it's ok. I understand." He handed the tiny piece of plastic over, "I look young, and I only turn 21 tomorrow, so I get it."
Uruha glanced at the card. Sure enough: Shiroyama Yuu, January 20, Mie-ken. He handed it back, "Well, then. We have--"
The dark-haired man waved a hand and smiled, "The best thing you have."
The waiter raised a slow brow, "I could uncork some Moet-Chandon for you, but it'll cost you a pretty penny."
"If that's the best thing you have. I'll take the entire bottle."
No longer hung up on working past closing, the blond trod off to the kitchen to place the order and dig out the expensive bubbly and a glass without lipstick marks. Those are a bitch to wash off.
When he returned, the customer was staring silently up at the muted TV screen, something dark looming in his expression.
It vanished, however, when he saw the waiter reapproaching.
"I hope you brought more than one," he said suddenly.
Uruha froze, glancing at the bottle. "How many did you intend to drink?"
There was a timid laugh, "I meant glasses. I can't drink all that by myself."
"Uh... It's not really professional for us to... I mean, I appreciate it, but..."
The man looked a little disappointed, "What if I said, you would be doing me a favor?"
The restaraunt around them was silent except for the clanging on pans in the back. Uruha glanced up at the clock. Nine-fifty-three. He supposed his boss wouldn't be coming in this late. Then he glanced down at the bottle in his hands. He really fucking loved this stuff.
A slow smile crossed his lips, "Well, if it would be helping you out, I suppose I could suffer through it."
He was met with a grin.
After obtaining a second glass, he returned and carefully uncorked the bottle, finding himself somewhat more comfortable with the stranger due to the promise of free champagne.
"I'm Aoi, by the way." The dark-haired man said quietly, watching his glass fill with the golden liquid.
"Uruha." The waiter grinned, pouring his own glass only a modest third full and took a seat. "So I guess we're celebrating your birthday, then?"
The darkness from before seemed to creep back into Aoi's expression and his smile looked somewhat bitter, "My death, rather."
Uruha froze.
"I have Sexormahdedfellia." He took a slow sip from his glass, "And tomorrow morning, right before a turn 21, I will kill myself."
TBC
an: CAN YOU GUESS WHERE THIS IS GOING HOMG? Don't get your hopes up. 8D
The name "Sexormadedfellia" was coined by the love of my life, hot_na_neechan, along with a slieu of other gems of the bizarre and non-existant medical variety. ♥