[Prince of Tennis] Kurobane/Davide: Pun(c)tuate
Disclaimer: Based on the characters and situations of Konomi Takeshi.
TITLE: Pun(c)tuate
FANDOM: Prince of Tennis
PAIRING/CHARACTERS: Kurobane/Davide, with appearances from Kentarou, Saeki, Ryou and one Seigaku regular
GENRE: romance, drama
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Growing pains take on a whole new meaning for them. (2800+ words)
WARNING/S: Beware the confusing scene-breaks and my terrible, terrible puns.
NOTES: Written for rokkaku_chu. Much love goes out to lyuna for the hand-holding, the ideas, and the determination to keep me writing.
{ punctuate: to stress or emphasize; to single out as important }
Fists clenched tight and brows knitted together, Bane surveyed the scene in front of him and could not move, could not even try to. His legs remained still - he swore he couldn’t feel them, sensation lost, his expression hard and eyes dark, unreadable. There was not a sound, every movement a haze in the corner of his vision, smoky illusion, a slow thunderous cloud of foreboding. There was simply nothing else.
He had never signed up for this, hadn’t planned for any of it. And they hadn’t felt the need to plan for it, because… who would have thought?
Forever is such a boring word.
He gritted his teeth. Yes, forever was a boring word. Not just, it was cliché. And they knew what the boundaries were, what they meant, had chosen to work around them, found their own place, just for them. But at the end of the day, what else could you possibly call it? Had they been trying to evade the truth all along? Forget boring or cliché, it was--
“Amane-san, you’re losing too much blood as it is. Please stop moving! Please stop fighting it!” The nurse was trying her best to hold him down, her body so very petite next to his, chiseled, sculpted then given the breath of life, Michelangelo’s greatest creation; inevitably beautiful, to an extent unreal, despite the scrapes, bruises and gashes. It was a mystical spell, strange incantations muttered against the shell of his ear. Bane did not know what was or wasn’t anymore, couldn’t understand the difference.
But the magic started to fade away as he noticed the doctors getting ready with their sedatives, one needle after another, sickening. And Bane knew how much he hated the sight of needles with a vengeance.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you will have to wait outside. We will call for you if anything happens.” A man in scrubs laid a hand on his shoulder; Bane wanted to shrug it off. Don’t you dare make me leave! But there was nothing he could do or say to justify that. He couldn’t stay, not when he had nothing to contribute. His role was to wait, wait forever if he must - Bane began to tremble - and that was what killed him all the more.
The emergency room doors slid shut behind him, his coat, soaking wet, on a green bench he hadn’t even noticed when he arrived. His eyes were still focused on the small circular windows above the door handles, his height making it easy enough to position himself at the right angle. Yet, Bane could not see a thing. Everyone was crowded around his body, blood dripping to the floor, crimson against white, an awfully significant contrast. Bane felt himself breaking away, piece by piece, shattered beyond reason.
Why can’t you understand that all I want is you?
*
“Davide-san, have you ever wondered what life would have been like if you hadn’t met Bane-san?” The boy in question turned to Kentarou, stared at him for a good long while before replying.
“What do you mean?” His tone was deadpan, hair swishing in the soft afternoon breeze, GameBoy then forgotten on the tabletop (still beeping to signal make-believe attacks and flying pokeballs). With his piercing gaze daring the other boy to continue, however, one would have had to wonder if Davide had finally snapped… and unfortunately, what that, in turn, would have to entail.
“Eh?” Kentarou blinked back, scratching his head, his cheeks stained a faint pinkish hue, evidently unfazed, “I mean, haven’t you ever wondered? You and Bane-san are so close. And I thought you might be feeling sad.”
Davide looked as if he were mulling over the idea, eyes directed skyward; while Kentarou inched ever closer - yes, yes! - with his own stare glimmering in triumph at having made Davide actually think about it. But disappointment, much like misery, enjoyed the company.
“Sad about what?”
Kentarou, for once, looked just about ready to pound on something - rather, someone, a nearly murderous chill swishing between them. If only his legs were as long as Bane-san’s, then maybe he could reach Davide-san and then… and then… ugh, nevermind.
“How-How can you not know? No, it’s not that. How can you not even care?! Me, I can’t believe the seniors aren’t going to be around anymore. We won’t be practicing with them or having matches with them, or trying to get to the Nationals with them after tomorrow. I don’t understand, Davide-san! Does all that not mean anything to you?”
Davide chose to remain silent as Kentarou continued on with his tirade, arms folded against his chest and expression unwavering. By the time, the other boy had run out of words to hurl at him though, the brunette couldn’t help but retort, “I take it to mean that you are trying to be mean, Ken-chan.”
As his disgruntled teammate stormed off, muttering unmentionables beneath his breath, completely unlike him, and frightening every freshman within his peripheral line of sight, Davide settled back against his seat and closed his eyes. A few seconds had passed when he heard the steady rhythm of footsteps coming up to him from behind the school building. A low husky chuckle met his ears, sending shivers down his spine; he was more alert than ever.
“What was that about?” Davide turned to his doubles partner, scowling, yet with an impish twinkle in his eyes, mischief evident, certainly up to no good.
“Kentarou’s cross is his own to bear.” And before Bane could so much as touch him, the boy had swooped down, out of the way, snickering to himself - nothing was supposed to change, “Pshu.”
“I swear, your sense of humor is going downhill, Davide,” Bane frowned.
“What does it matter? A lapse can only be fixed by running it.”
Massaging his temples as he took the seat Kentarou had vacated, Bane sighed then, his right arm coming up to rest on the younger boy’s shoulders. “Oi, you’re not even making any sense.”
Their eyes met, molten honey against the darkness of sin, a blanket of words unspoken and needs painfully denied. Someone’s mouth parted, breaths hitching, warm and wet and naturally uncontrollable, they couldn’t be sure. Neither allowed himself to back down. Face me with all you’ve got. The words seemed to vibrate through their ears, rocking to the very core, insanity to the roots. It was Bane, however, who looked away first. Victory had never tasted so bitter before.
“Davide, let’s talk.”
“…Okay.”
*
“You know, everything is going to be fine.” Bane would have believed him, really, had Sae not bent his head down and lifted a shaky hand to comb through his hair, fear and uncertainty. Which was why the optimism had fallen flat, pancakes soggy and ruined, syrup sliding down the kitchen counter, a complete and utter mess.
Ryou had packed up what was left of their breakfast, had handed it to Bane in a small brown paper bag the minute their eyes met, and then steered Sae over to that ugly green bench he was beginning to despise. Bane could see Ryou’s grip tightening, as if he, too, were about to break down. But comfort had become overrated, especially when the hand he so badly wanted to hold himself was nowhere to be found.
A doctor or two came out intermittently, reassuring them again and again. But their faces, their eyes carried a different story, the truth behind their lies, the impersonal approach of keeping information at bay. Bane had stopped trusting them, had stopped listening to them drone on and on about complication and observation and long, long hours. Somehow, their words held no sound, nothing. They were already waiting miserably; an expert didn’t need to tell them that.
“Can’t you just let us see him?” Ryou bit out, gesturing to the ominous doors behind them, “If he is awake, then Davide’s definitely looking for us. He must be frightened and confused.”
The doctor with mean eyes and a perpetual sneer stared down his nose at Ryou, his answer coming out loud and clear before it was even said. And his former teammate would have yelled right back at him, a punch or a kick included, appearances be damned, had a familiar voice from down the hall not intervened.
“Kisarazu Ryou-san?” Bane turned to the doctor coming towards them, a man whose hair was fashioned to reveal an odd bowl-like cut and two long strands of somewhat out-of-place bangs, which upon closer inspection probably had minds of their own. A series of snapshots from their days on the tennis courts quickly came to mind.
“Oishi-san?” Sae had recognized him first, relief spreading across his face. “Do you… work here?”
“Yes, I’ve been a resident here for nearly a year now.” That gentle smile and his kind eyes were Bane’s undoing.
“Please, Oishi-san. You have to help us get in there! Davide… Davide’s gotten into an accident and they’ve been telling us that he’s conscious. But we don’t know what they’ve been doing to him - all these technical terms don’t make any sense.”
For a moment, Oishi’s eyes held only pity, perhaps from understanding what it was like to be on the other side of those doors, from understanding the pain of not being able to know, what to do, how to handle the situation, anything. Bane wanted to grit his teeth and say he did not need such pity, that there were more important things at hand. But as soon as said light crossed his eyes, the expression vanished, leaving Oishi with one of sheer determination. He was on their side, no questions asked.
*
“Davide…” The boy didn’t bother replying, for once, his puns forgotten, his head bobbing up and down, creating his own frenzied rhythm, Bane’s cock as far back as it could reach, tight and wet and wonderfully hot; he was sure Davide was going to choke sooner or later. But even as he winced, he did not stop, could not, would not.
Finally, Bane pulled him up by the shoulders, already at his limits, crushing his lips against Davide’s, tongues dueling, the boy’s sweet little mouth welcoming him, following him (to the ends of the earth and back), unable to let go. Bane growled deep in his throat, roughly pushing his partner back down, shorts already to his knees, Davide no longer wearing his own for they had been chucked to the far corner of the empty classroom they were currently occupying. No one would come. No one would hear. No one could possibly imagine.
“Get on your back,” Bane barked out, the answering look in Davide’s eyes challenging him still, even as he did as he was told. The mere insolence in that gaze sent thrilling shockwaves through his body, driving him further and further into oblivion. Nevertheless, the boy had to be taught some manners.
He held Davide’s hands up against the desk - the teacher’s desk (the widest one), effectively trapping them there, the position most uncomfortable but the view so enticing, so erotic, the boy was moaning and squirming in both pain and pleasure, begging to be fucked. Bane smirked.
“Is this how much you’re going to miss me?” When Davide still did not provide an answer, Bane leaned in to hiss against the shell of his ear, his tongue darting out to lick a wet trail towards the lobe. “Well?”
“Yeees,” Davide hissed right back, trying in a vain attempt to kick him, but with their positions like that, there was nothing to hit but air. Bane ground their hips together, pressing his cock against Davide’s leg, pre-cum already sliding down his inner thighs. Davide’s eyes widened.
“Somehow, I’m not convinced,” Bane drawled, leaning in again to trace his tongue between Davide’s nipples, and then to bite down, leaving a fair number of small red marks, to show anyone and everyone. All this, he told himself, belonged to him. All of it. No matter how far away he went, no matter how long it took for him to return… all his. Davide stared up at him questioningly, curiously frightened, yet interested all the same. You’re mine, you always will be.
“Show me,” he said instead, guiding the boy on to the desk, his ass on the cool surface, arms still held above them. Davide knew what to do.
The boy arched his back, positioning himself to receive what Bane intended to give him. There was no lube, it was going to hurt. But next to that pain, there would be fulfillment and the knowledge of having left something behind, something significant, something real, something each of them would never ever forget.
Davide allowed himself to be taken, to let every pent up frustration consume him. He didn’t need anyone to remind him of how much he would hate seeing Bane walk away from him, his partner’s back a fading memory. But they had this, he argued. They would always have this. He would carve his name - his invisible signature down on to Bane’s body if it was the last thing he did.
*
“They have finally gotten him to calm down, Bane-san. He’s resting now.” He followed Oishi into the room, the white empty walls maddening, his heart pounding so hard, everyone could probably hear it. But, no one commented, not even Ryou; they were all feeling too raw, too afraid. I might be losing him. Bane shook his head, no. He- they were stronger, so much stronger than that. They had to be. They just had to be.
As he walked up to the bed, footsteps heavy, he finally allowed himself to see, to take in the damage done, every single imperfection - because even then, he was still him, still so beautiful, a work of art. And when he did, Bane nearly turned away and ran out the door.
A thick bandage covered Davide’s forehead, more bandages on his arms and legs, his neck was held in a brace, his wild hair in even more disarray. Who was this? Bane closed his eyes, remembering a faint laugh, a twinkling pair of eyes, the smell of fruity hair gel. This was his friend, his best friend, his roommate, his partner, his lover, his--
“Ha..r…ka…ze…” Blinking, eyes wide, Bane stared down at him in shock. He wasn’t sure if it was a figment of his imagination.
“…Davide?” A hand, he couldn’t bring himself to stop it, came out of nowhere, suddenly landing a punch on his cheek, the strength in it improbable to have come from a man on his deathbed. Bane winced, nevertheless, reaching out to grasp said hand, his grip tight, Davide frowned.
“I guess it takes some getting used to.”
Again, Bane blinked, confused. What on earth--
“My name,” Davide sniffed as if it should have been quite obvious. And as if light bulbs had begun counting off in his head to form a big ‘O’, Bane snorted in understanding.
“It is a bit strange, calling you that after all this time. I’ve gotten so accustomed to ‘Davide’, we are… probably going to have to change your wardrobe.” He didn’t have a particular laugh to follow it up with, but it did get the point across.
Davide slapped his other hand against Bane’s mouth, “Idiot.”
*
As Ryou waved goodbye before running out the door to catch up with Sae, Bane began setting their paper plates down by the small sink in the far left of the room, the soggy pancakes they’d brought were apparently not so much inedible but simply a misjudgment due to appearance. Davide had his back to the headrest, seated up in his bed, his eyes trailing after the other man’s footsteps, just like it always went, nothing ever changed.
Bane smiled as he turned to meet Davide’s gaze, “Do you remember what you told me before graduation in middle school?”
“Middle school is so far back, and I am so much larger than life now,” Davide replied, playing with the hem of his shirt, “Pshu.” It was probably a good thing he had just gotten into an accident.
“So I take it you don’t,” Bane scowled, continuing anyway, “You said something along the lines of ‘forever is such a boring word’. And I was wondering if you still think that way, you know, now.” He had meant to sound passive, as if it didn’t matter as much as it did. Somehow, it wasn’t too difficult to catch on though.
“Flat words like that should never be used when driving, else you would get into an accident like mine.”
“Oi, Hikaru, I am being serious here. So would you please stop it with the pu--”
“But I think,” Davide smiled then, effectively getting Bane to halt mid-sentence, his voice trembling ever so slightly, “forever doesn’t sound too bad.”
~OWARI
TITLE: Pun(c)tuate
FANDOM: Prince of Tennis
PAIRING/CHARACTERS: Kurobane/Davide, with appearances from Kentarou, Saeki, Ryou and one Seigaku regular
GENRE: romance, drama
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Growing pains take on a whole new meaning for them. (2800+ words)
WARNING/S: Beware the confusing scene-breaks and my terrible, terrible puns.
NOTES: Written for rokkaku_chu. Much love goes out to lyuna for the hand-holding, the ideas, and the determination to keep me writing.
{ punctuate: to stress or emphasize; to single out as important }
Fists clenched tight and brows knitted together, Bane surveyed the scene in front of him and could not move, could not even try to. His legs remained still - he swore he couldn’t feel them, sensation lost, his expression hard and eyes dark, unreadable. There was not a sound, every movement a haze in the corner of his vision, smoky illusion, a slow thunderous cloud of foreboding. There was simply nothing else.
He had never signed up for this, hadn’t planned for any of it. And they hadn’t felt the need to plan for it, because… who would have thought?
Forever is such a boring word.
He gritted his teeth. Yes, forever was a boring word. Not just, it was cliché. And they knew what the boundaries were, what they meant, had chosen to work around them, found their own place, just for them. But at the end of the day, what else could you possibly call it? Had they been trying to evade the truth all along? Forget boring or cliché, it was--
“Amane-san, you’re losing too much blood as it is. Please stop moving! Please stop fighting it!” The nurse was trying her best to hold him down, her body so very petite next to his, chiseled, sculpted then given the breath of life, Michelangelo’s greatest creation; inevitably beautiful, to an extent unreal, despite the scrapes, bruises and gashes. It was a mystical spell, strange incantations muttered against the shell of his ear. Bane did not know what was or wasn’t anymore, couldn’t understand the difference.
But the magic started to fade away as he noticed the doctors getting ready with their sedatives, one needle after another, sickening. And Bane knew how much he hated the sight of needles with a vengeance.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you will have to wait outside. We will call for you if anything happens.” A man in scrubs laid a hand on his shoulder; Bane wanted to shrug it off. Don’t you dare make me leave! But there was nothing he could do or say to justify that. He couldn’t stay, not when he had nothing to contribute. His role was to wait, wait forever if he must - Bane began to tremble - and that was what killed him all the more.
The emergency room doors slid shut behind him, his coat, soaking wet, on a green bench he hadn’t even noticed when he arrived. His eyes were still focused on the small circular windows above the door handles, his height making it easy enough to position himself at the right angle. Yet, Bane could not see a thing. Everyone was crowded around his body, blood dripping to the floor, crimson against white, an awfully significant contrast. Bane felt himself breaking away, piece by piece, shattered beyond reason.
Why can’t you understand that all I want is you?
*
“Davide-san, have you ever wondered what life would have been like if you hadn’t met Bane-san?” The boy in question turned to Kentarou, stared at him for a good long while before replying.
“What do you mean?” His tone was deadpan, hair swishing in the soft afternoon breeze, GameBoy then forgotten on the tabletop (still beeping to signal make-believe attacks and flying pokeballs). With his piercing gaze daring the other boy to continue, however, one would have had to wonder if Davide had finally snapped… and unfortunately, what that, in turn, would have to entail.
“Eh?” Kentarou blinked back, scratching his head, his cheeks stained a faint pinkish hue, evidently unfazed, “I mean, haven’t you ever wondered? You and Bane-san are so close. And I thought you might be feeling sad.”
Davide looked as if he were mulling over the idea, eyes directed skyward; while Kentarou inched ever closer - yes, yes! - with his own stare glimmering in triumph at having made Davide actually think about it. But disappointment, much like misery, enjoyed the company.
“Sad about what?”
Kentarou, for once, looked just about ready to pound on something - rather, someone, a nearly murderous chill swishing between them. If only his legs were as long as Bane-san’s, then maybe he could reach Davide-san and then… and then… ugh, nevermind.
“How-How can you not know? No, it’s not that. How can you not even care?! Me, I can’t believe the seniors aren’t going to be around anymore. We won’t be practicing with them or having matches with them, or trying to get to the Nationals with them after tomorrow. I don’t understand, Davide-san! Does all that not mean anything to you?”
Davide chose to remain silent as Kentarou continued on with his tirade, arms folded against his chest and expression unwavering. By the time, the other boy had run out of words to hurl at him though, the brunette couldn’t help but retort, “I take it to mean that you are trying to be mean, Ken-chan.”
As his disgruntled teammate stormed off, muttering unmentionables beneath his breath, completely unlike him, and frightening every freshman within his peripheral line of sight, Davide settled back against his seat and closed his eyes. A few seconds had passed when he heard the steady rhythm of footsteps coming up to him from behind the school building. A low husky chuckle met his ears, sending shivers down his spine; he was more alert than ever.
“What was that about?” Davide turned to his doubles partner, scowling, yet with an impish twinkle in his eyes, mischief evident, certainly up to no good.
“Kentarou’s cross is his own to bear.” And before Bane could so much as touch him, the boy had swooped down, out of the way, snickering to himself - nothing was supposed to change, “Pshu.”
“I swear, your sense of humor is going downhill, Davide,” Bane frowned.
“What does it matter? A lapse can only be fixed by running it.”
Massaging his temples as he took the seat Kentarou had vacated, Bane sighed then, his right arm coming up to rest on the younger boy’s shoulders. “Oi, you’re not even making any sense.”
Their eyes met, molten honey against the darkness of sin, a blanket of words unspoken and needs painfully denied. Someone’s mouth parted, breaths hitching, warm and wet and naturally uncontrollable, they couldn’t be sure. Neither allowed himself to back down. Face me with all you’ve got. The words seemed to vibrate through their ears, rocking to the very core, insanity to the roots. It was Bane, however, who looked away first. Victory had never tasted so bitter before.
“Davide, let’s talk.”
“…Okay.”
*
“You know, everything is going to be fine.” Bane would have believed him, really, had Sae not bent his head down and lifted a shaky hand to comb through his hair, fear and uncertainty. Which was why the optimism had fallen flat, pancakes soggy and ruined, syrup sliding down the kitchen counter, a complete and utter mess.
Ryou had packed up what was left of their breakfast, had handed it to Bane in a small brown paper bag the minute their eyes met, and then steered Sae over to that ugly green bench he was beginning to despise. Bane could see Ryou’s grip tightening, as if he, too, were about to break down. But comfort had become overrated, especially when the hand he so badly wanted to hold himself was nowhere to be found.
A doctor or two came out intermittently, reassuring them again and again. But their faces, their eyes carried a different story, the truth behind their lies, the impersonal approach of keeping information at bay. Bane had stopped trusting them, had stopped listening to them drone on and on about complication and observation and long, long hours. Somehow, their words held no sound, nothing. They were already waiting miserably; an expert didn’t need to tell them that.
“Can’t you just let us see him?” Ryou bit out, gesturing to the ominous doors behind them, “If he is awake, then Davide’s definitely looking for us. He must be frightened and confused.”
The doctor with mean eyes and a perpetual sneer stared down his nose at Ryou, his answer coming out loud and clear before it was even said. And his former teammate would have yelled right back at him, a punch or a kick included, appearances be damned, had a familiar voice from down the hall not intervened.
“Kisarazu Ryou-san?” Bane turned to the doctor coming towards them, a man whose hair was fashioned to reveal an odd bowl-like cut and two long strands of somewhat out-of-place bangs, which upon closer inspection probably had minds of their own. A series of snapshots from their days on the tennis courts quickly came to mind.
“Oishi-san?” Sae had recognized him first, relief spreading across his face. “Do you… work here?”
“Yes, I’ve been a resident here for nearly a year now.” That gentle smile and his kind eyes were Bane’s undoing.
“Please, Oishi-san. You have to help us get in there! Davide… Davide’s gotten into an accident and they’ve been telling us that he’s conscious. But we don’t know what they’ve been doing to him - all these technical terms don’t make any sense.”
For a moment, Oishi’s eyes held only pity, perhaps from understanding what it was like to be on the other side of those doors, from understanding the pain of not being able to know, what to do, how to handle the situation, anything. Bane wanted to grit his teeth and say he did not need such pity, that there were more important things at hand. But as soon as said light crossed his eyes, the expression vanished, leaving Oishi with one of sheer determination. He was on their side, no questions asked.
*
“Davide…” The boy didn’t bother replying, for once, his puns forgotten, his head bobbing up and down, creating his own frenzied rhythm, Bane’s cock as far back as it could reach, tight and wet and wonderfully hot; he was sure Davide was going to choke sooner or later. But even as he winced, he did not stop, could not, would not.
Finally, Bane pulled him up by the shoulders, already at his limits, crushing his lips against Davide’s, tongues dueling, the boy’s sweet little mouth welcoming him, following him (to the ends of the earth and back), unable to let go. Bane growled deep in his throat, roughly pushing his partner back down, shorts already to his knees, Davide no longer wearing his own for they had been chucked to the far corner of the empty classroom they were currently occupying. No one would come. No one would hear. No one could possibly imagine.
“Get on your back,” Bane barked out, the answering look in Davide’s eyes challenging him still, even as he did as he was told. The mere insolence in that gaze sent thrilling shockwaves through his body, driving him further and further into oblivion. Nevertheless, the boy had to be taught some manners.
He held Davide’s hands up against the desk - the teacher’s desk (the widest one), effectively trapping them there, the position most uncomfortable but the view so enticing, so erotic, the boy was moaning and squirming in both pain and pleasure, begging to be fucked. Bane smirked.
“Is this how much you’re going to miss me?” When Davide still did not provide an answer, Bane leaned in to hiss against the shell of his ear, his tongue darting out to lick a wet trail towards the lobe. “Well?”
“Yeees,” Davide hissed right back, trying in a vain attempt to kick him, but with their positions like that, there was nothing to hit but air. Bane ground their hips together, pressing his cock against Davide’s leg, pre-cum already sliding down his inner thighs. Davide’s eyes widened.
“Somehow, I’m not convinced,” Bane drawled, leaning in again to trace his tongue between Davide’s nipples, and then to bite down, leaving a fair number of small red marks, to show anyone and everyone. All this, he told himself, belonged to him. All of it. No matter how far away he went, no matter how long it took for him to return… all his. Davide stared up at him questioningly, curiously frightened, yet interested all the same. You’re mine, you always will be.
“Show me,” he said instead, guiding the boy on to the desk, his ass on the cool surface, arms still held above them. Davide knew what to do.
The boy arched his back, positioning himself to receive what Bane intended to give him. There was no lube, it was going to hurt. But next to that pain, there would be fulfillment and the knowledge of having left something behind, something significant, something real, something each of them would never ever forget.
Davide allowed himself to be taken, to let every pent up frustration consume him. He didn’t need anyone to remind him of how much he would hate seeing Bane walk away from him, his partner’s back a fading memory. But they had this, he argued. They would always have this. He would carve his name - his invisible signature down on to Bane’s body if it was the last thing he did.
*
“They have finally gotten him to calm down, Bane-san. He’s resting now.” He followed Oishi into the room, the white empty walls maddening, his heart pounding so hard, everyone could probably hear it. But, no one commented, not even Ryou; they were all feeling too raw, too afraid. I might be losing him. Bane shook his head, no. He- they were stronger, so much stronger than that. They had to be. They just had to be.
As he walked up to the bed, footsteps heavy, he finally allowed himself to see, to take in the damage done, every single imperfection - because even then, he was still him, still so beautiful, a work of art. And when he did, Bane nearly turned away and ran out the door.
A thick bandage covered Davide’s forehead, more bandages on his arms and legs, his neck was held in a brace, his wild hair in even more disarray. Who was this? Bane closed his eyes, remembering a faint laugh, a twinkling pair of eyes, the smell of fruity hair gel. This was his friend, his best friend, his roommate, his partner, his lover, his--
“Ha..r…ka…ze…” Blinking, eyes wide, Bane stared down at him in shock. He wasn’t sure if it was a figment of his imagination.
“…Davide?” A hand, he couldn’t bring himself to stop it, came out of nowhere, suddenly landing a punch on his cheek, the strength in it improbable to have come from a man on his deathbed. Bane winced, nevertheless, reaching out to grasp said hand, his grip tight, Davide frowned.
“I guess it takes some getting used to.”
Again, Bane blinked, confused. What on earth--
“My name,” Davide sniffed as if it should have been quite obvious. And as if light bulbs had begun counting off in his head to form a big ‘O’, Bane snorted in understanding.
“It is a bit strange, calling you that after all this time. I’ve gotten so accustomed to ‘Davide’, we are… probably going to have to change your wardrobe.” He didn’t have a particular laugh to follow it up with, but it did get the point across.
Davide slapped his other hand against Bane’s mouth, “Idiot.”
*
As Ryou waved goodbye before running out the door to catch up with Sae, Bane began setting their paper plates down by the small sink in the far left of the room, the soggy pancakes they’d brought were apparently not so much inedible but simply a misjudgment due to appearance. Davide had his back to the headrest, seated up in his bed, his eyes trailing after the other man’s footsteps, just like it always went, nothing ever changed.
Bane smiled as he turned to meet Davide’s gaze, “Do you remember what you told me before graduation in middle school?”
“Middle school is so far back, and I am so much larger than life now,” Davide replied, playing with the hem of his shirt, “Pshu.” It was probably a good thing he had just gotten into an accident.
“So I take it you don’t,” Bane scowled, continuing anyway, “You said something along the lines of ‘forever is such a boring word’. And I was wondering if you still think that way, you know, now.” He had meant to sound passive, as if it didn’t matter as much as it did. Somehow, it wasn’t too difficult to catch on though.
“Flat words like that should never be used when driving, else you would get into an accident like mine.”
“Oi, Hikaru, I am being serious here. So would you please stop it with the pu--”
“But I think,” Davide smiled then, effectively getting Bane to halt mid-sentence, his voice trembling ever so slightly, “forever doesn’t sound too bad.”
~OWARI