Title: A Sigh Is Just A Sigh
Pairing: Keita/Ryuichi
Author: venenatus.venustas
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, unfortunately. But do own story. I do not presume to know anything of their private and/or business lives. This is all FICTION, meaning I MADE IT UP. I do not claim truth in anything you may read from this story. Except for their hairstyles.
Warnings: Angst, I guess? Some fluff, maybe?
Inspired by: Ryuichi’s ringlets.
Summary: But a kiss is never just a kiss.


Continued from:
Prologue = Regret/Refusal
Part 1 = Plans/Denial
Part 2 = Confessions/Admissions
Part 3 = Substitution/Jealousy
Part 4 = Realisation/Restraint
Part 5 = Security/Broken
Part 6 = Confusion/Aversion
Part 7 = Uncertainty/Fright


Part 8: Ryuichi tests Ryohei, and Keita still refuses to come to terms with himself.


EDIT (24/2 1:23am): The third last line, the last thing Keita says. I'm such an idiot *face palms*





O.o o.O

“I want to straighten my hair,” Ryuichi declared, and Keita just looked at him.

“Why?”

“I hate how I look right now.”

You look beautiful, Keita wanted to say, but he knew he had no right to. “Why?” he asked again.

“You said I looked like I was begging to be fucked. William said that, too.” Ryuichi said that like it explained everything, and it did.

“Oh,” Keita said. “When do you want to go?”

Ryuichi shrugged. “Are you coming with me?”

“Of course.”

“Then…whenever you want, I guess.”

“No, when do you want?”

“Today. Right now.” Ryuichi looked away. “Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

“I’m gonna go call them now.” Ryuichi pushed his glasses up his nose and turned to go.

O.o o.O

“You look good, Ryuichi, why cover it up?” Ryohei asked, when Ryuichi and Keita walked through their front door.

Ryuichi shrugged, taking off his trucker’s cap and running a hand over his bandanna. “I shouldn’t have cut it for the curls.”

“They mostly just relaxed your hair,” Keita said. “At least you don’t look exactly the same as before.” You still look beautiful, he wanted to say, but he knew he still had no right to.

Ryuichi tossed his leather jacket onto the sofa, flopping down next to it. Keita followed, pulling off his beanie and running a hand through his hair.

“You two are staying home tonight, right?” Ryohei stood off to the side.

Keita gave Ryohei a curious look. “Yeah, why?”

“Ken-chan’s coming for dinner.”

“That’s nice,” Ryuichi said absently, flipping to a music video.

Keita knew the significance, however, and raised his eyebrows at Ryohei. “Is he?” he asked, and it wasn’t even really a question.

Ryohei nodded, once, decisively. “Yes. It’s been long enough.”

“Since what?” Ryuichi asked.

“Uh. Since I slept over at his place. About time that I invited him over.”

“Yeah, it’s been a long time,” Ryuichi said, and Keita looked at him sharply because that was also the night that –

Ryuichi curled up on the sofa, and Keita shot Ryohei a worried glance.

“Ryuichi, what would you like me to make for dinner?” Ryohei asked, coming closer to place his hand on the top of Ryuichi’s head.

“Eh. Whatever.”

Keita and Ryohei shared another troubled look. “Ryu-chan, do you want to practise with me? Play something for me to sing to, please?”

“Okay,” Ryuichi said, unfolding his body and standing up. “I’ll just. Guitar. Yeah.”

Ryohei sighed when Ryuichi was in his room. “I said the wrong thing,” he whispered.

“No, you couldn’t help it.” Keita shook his head at Ryohei. “Don’t worry about it. Go make dinner,” he said more loudly, and Ryohei nodded, frowning as he headed towards the kitchen.

Ryuichi came out, clutching his favourite acoustic guitar. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

“A ballad,” Keita said. “Something where I really sing.”

And Ryuichi started playing and Keita started singing and Ryuichi never looked up, but Keita’s eyes never left Ryuichi’s face.

O.o o.O

Ryohei set the last dish down in front of them, wiping his hands on a dishcloth as he sat down. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“Smells delicious,” Ken said, and grinned at Ryohei, who smiled back.

Ryuichi stared down at his bowl of rice.

“Well,” Ryohei said, with false brightness. “Let’s eat.”

They ate in silence, Keita watching as Ken and Ryohei shared darting glances and as Ryuichi picked at his rice.

“Ryu-chan, have some meat,” Keita said, giving Ryuichi a large helping of beef. “You like meat, right?”

Ryuichi nodded, mixing in the beef into part of his rice.

“Ryuichi, have you listened to any good music recently?” Ken asked, and Ryohei gave him a small smile.

Ryuichi shrugged. “American hip-hop. Rock. Greenday is cool. Stuff like that. Classics, like Nirvana. Nine Inch Nails.”

“That’s good. You should try playing some of it. You could always ask the studio to arrange to get the original sheet music. I remember you asked them for the Eagles’ music.”

Ryuichi nodded. “I will. Has Ken-chan been well?”

“Yes, I’ve been very well. How about you, Ryuichi?”

“Ryuichi’s been good, too.”

“Actually,” Ryohei said, sitting up a bit straighter. “Ken-chan’s here today because…” He trailed off, blushing, as Ken and Keita remained rather suspiciously quiet.

Ryuichi looked up with a questioning tilt to his head. “What is it?”

Ken set his bowl and chopsticks down, reaching over to hold Ryohei’s hand. “It’s been some time, so we wanted to tell you.”

Ryuichi stared at their entwined hands – Ken’s thumb was drawing small circles on the back of Ryohei’s hand. “You’re a couple.”

Ryohei blushed harder and hid his face with his free hand, and Ken laughed. “Yes,” he said.

“How long?”

Ken smiled at Ryohei. “Since the night Ryohei stayed over at my place.”

“Oh,” Ryuichi said, and then stood up. “I feel dizzy. I think I better lay down.”

“Are you alright, Ryuichi?” Ryohei asked, blush finally beginning to fade.

Keita grabbed Ryuichi’s hand. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Ryuichi shook his head. “No. Eat dinner.”

“I’ll save some for you,” Ryohei said.

“No,” Ryuichi said quickly. “Don’t bother. I’ll make ramen or something.” He tugged his hand away from Keita.

The three of them at the table watched silently as Ryuichi entered Keita’s bedroom, closing the door gently behind him, before Ken raised an eyebrow at Ryohei, who was staring at Keita, who in turn was staring off in the direction Ryuichi had gone with a strangely pinched look to his face.

“What’s up with that?” Ken asked.

Ryohei shook his head.

“Keita?” Ken tried.

Keita turned back to his rice and began eating methodically, refusing to look at either Ryohei or Ken.

O.o o.O

There was a knock on the door, and Ryohei called out, “It’s me.”

“Come in.”

Ryohei slipped inside, going to sit on the bed, facing Ryuichi who sat up. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“You’ll tell me if anything’s wrong?”

Ryuichi nodded.

“Is there something bothering you, Ryu-chan?”

Ryuichi frowned slightly. “You have a boyfriend.”

“I do.”

“I…” Ryuichi licked his lips. “I can’t stop thinking about – about…”

“William,” Ryohei said flatly.

“Yeah. Especially. You have a boyfriend, and. I know Ken-chan is a good person. It’s not even that, it’s just. Would anyone want something as dirty as me?”

“You are not dirty, Ryuichi,” Ryohei said, and Ryuichi lowered his head so that Ryohei cupped Ryuichi’s face in his hands to tilt it back up to meet his eyes. “Listen to me, Ryuichi. You’re still untouched.”

Ryuichi’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Do you think so?”

“I do.”

“I’m not disgusting?”

“No.”

“I – I’m…”

“Hush, Ryu. None of that.” Ryohei kissed Ryuichi’s forehead, stroking away the hair that fell into Ryuichi’s face.

“Does Ryohei still love me?”

“Very much. Keita does, too.”

“Keita,” Ryuichi said, and his laugh was like a bark, short and sharp. “How much do you love me, Ryohei?”

“So much I can’t even begin to tell you.”

And the next thing he knew Ryuichi’s lips were against his, soft and slick with tears. Ryohei didn’t move away, didn’t push Ryuichi away.

Ryuichi sat back. “I’m still not disgusting?”

“No.”

“Ryohei’s so pure, I didn’t dirty you?”

Ryohei shook his head. “No.”

“You didn’t mind me?”

Ryohei shook his head again. “No.” He shifted to hold Ryuichi close. “Ryu-chan’s kisses are clean like fresh snow.”

“Ryuichi is so dirty. William stained my mouth. You should be disgusted. You should be repulsed.”

“I feel neither of those things. Hush, now, Ryu-chan, and sleep.”

“Ryuichi sleep.”

“Yes.”

“If Ryohei doesn’t think Ryuichi is dirty, would Keita?”

“Keita never thought that. I never thought that.”

Ryuichi said nothing.

O.o o.O

Keita sat on the living room sofa, still and silent as a statue. His arms were crossed, and he stared off at some unknown point in the distance. Ken sat in the armchair a short ways from him, leaning his elbows on his knees, and his forehead on his hands, eyes closed.

“How much do you love me, Ryohei?”

“So much I can’t even begin to tell you.”

And then Ryuichi was leaning into Ryohei, pressing their lips together, and Ryohei didn’t move away, didn’t push Ryuichi away, just accepted the kiss as it was, eyes falling shut after the initial moment of shock.

There was the sound of a door closing, and the almost noiseless patter of bare feet against hardwood flooring, but it was enough for Keita to look alive again, suddenly, even though he didn’t move from his position.

Keita saw Ryohei come into the living room, and he stood up, unfolding himself in one fluid motion. “You,” he hissed, eyes narrowing to black slits on his face.

Ken stood up as well, placing a hand on Keita’s shoulder. “Keita.”

Ryohei frowned. “What?”

“We saw you,” Keita accused. “You even left the door open for us.”

“What are you talking about, Keita?”

“We saw,” Keita said. “He kissed you.”

Ryohei’s eyes slid to Ken’s face. “Yes.”

Ken said nothing.

“You let him,” Keita said.

“Yes.”

“You told him you loved him.”

“Because I do.”

Keita grabbed Ryohei by the collar, pulling their faces close together. “How dare you,” he growled.

“Keita, let go!” Ken pulled Keita off of Ryohei, standing in front of Ryohei, shielding him from Keita.

Ryohei moved out from behind Ken. “It was nothing.”

“You have a boyfriend. You two came out as a couple tonight, officially, to Ryuichi and me. And you let Ryuichi kiss you.”

Ken said nothing, and Ryohei faced him instead, turning his back to Keita.

“Ryuichi kissed me because he needed to know I wouldn’t feel repulsed by him.”

“Excuses,” Keita said harshly.

Ryohei whirled around again. “Think what you will, Keita. It wasn’t me that initiated it.”

Keita didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. Because he had seen it himself and it had been Ryuichi who kissed Ryohei. His hands shook, and Keita clenched his teeth tightly.

“Ryohei, tell me. Explain to me,” Ken said softly, crumpling down to sit on the floor. “Just tell me.”

Ryohei kneeled before Ken, resting his head on Ken’s propped up knee. “Ken-chan, please trust me.” He looked up into Ken’s face. “Ken-chan, you know I’m not a deceitful person. Please, trust me. Ryuichi is in so much pain. I know if it were you, you would do the same as I am.”

“Tell me, Ryohei,” Ken said, and stroked Ryohei’s cheek with a light touch. “Make me understand Ryuichi’s pain, so I could understand what you did, what you’re doing, why.”

“What Ryohei did was let Ryuichi kiss him,” Keita cut in, “and there’s nothing you can say to change that reality.”

“You still don’t understand, Keita?” Ryohei asked. “You still don’t understand Ryuichi? After all this, after all you’ve seen him been through – how could you not understand? You who prides yourself on being able to see through people? You didn’t see through Ryuichi’s feelings. You might have seen through William, but do you see through Ryuichi now? Always, the ones closest to you – why are you so blind to them?”

“What are you talking about?” Keita shook his head.

“Ryuichi’s always been affectionate. He needs affection to feel loved, to feel safe. At the same time he’s scared, Keita. He’s scared that we hate him, that we think less of him for what happened. He thinks himself dirty, that we think the same of him. He thinks that every time we touch him, his dirtiness taints us.”

“But he’s not.”

“But he doesn’t understand that, Keita! Don’t you see? He needs someone to hold him, someone to tell him that they love him, that they’re fine being so close to him because he’s not dirty. You’re the one he went to. You’re the one he’s been depending on. But do you see him doubting you? Don’t you see him doubting you? He’s looking for the same doubt in me, Keita, don’t you see?”

“Same doubt?” Keita repeated. “What are you saying? That Ryuichi doubts me? I never betrayed him, Ryohei!”

“Maybe I should leave,” Ken said, standing up.

“No, don’t.” Ryohei grabbed onto Ken’s hand. “I can’t have you leaving when you’re angry with or not trusting me.”

“Ryohei, let’s not do this right now. I am hurt that you didn’t push him away, yes, but you could explain to me later. You and Keita – this conversation is too private; I’m intruding.”

“No, no, you’re not. It’ll be okay. Please. If you don’t want to listen, go to my room and put on some music. Please, wait for me.”

Ken looked torn, glancing between the door and Ryohei.

“Stay, Ken-chan. Let Ryohei say what he has to say, and then you could have him and his lies to yourself.”

“Keita, shut the fuck up!” Ryohei shouted, and Ken pulled Ryohei close.

“Don’t. Calm down, Ryohei. We can’t do any of this if you’re riled up because you’re the one with the answers.”

“Ken-chan, why are you still protecting him? You saw exactly what I saw – you know as well as I do what Ryohei did.”

“I’m willing to believe him because I love him.”

“Ken…” Ryohei said softly, relaxing against Ken’s body.

“Why can’t you try to understand the situation before taking it exactly as it appears?” Ken asked Keita. “Why are you so set on blaming Ryohei?”

“What’s happening?”

Three heads swivelled over to the corridor that led off into the bedrooms. Ryuichi stood, frowning, hands twisting into the cuffs of his long-sleeved t-shirt.

None of them knew what to say to Ryuichi.

“Ken-chan, it’s not Ryohei’s fault. Don’t be mad at him.”

Ken let out a deep sigh. “Ryuichi, I just want to know why.”

Ryuichi shrugged. “I don’t know. Ryohei’s so clean. I wanted to try and see.”

“See what?”

“See if he would hate me for it.” Ryuichi turned to face the wall, tilting his head back and looking up as if speaking to someone much taller than him. “See if everyone would hate me for it. Ryohei would’ve told you, Ken-chan, if Keita and you hadn’t seen by accident. He would’ve told both of you.”

“What would that have done?”

“Then Ken-chan would be like, ‘Ryuichi dirtied Ryohei. Ryuichi spoiled my clean Ryohei.’ And Keita – Keita would think the same. But Ryuichi is confused.”

“About what?” Ryohei asked gently.

Ryuichi faced them again, dropping his head to the side. “Ryuichi is confused,” he said again. “Why is Keita mad at Ryohei?”

“Yeah,” Ryohei chipped in, shooting Keita a glare. “Why is Keita mad at Ryohei?”

“Ryohei shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that,” Keita said tightly.

“He didn’t,” Ryuichi said. “I was being selfish.” He lowered his gaze to the floor. “Ryohei was right. About everything.” His voice thickened with the onslaught of tears. “I know on some abstract level that I’m not ruined, that I’m not dirty. But I can’t apply it to myself. It was – it was my way of testing Ryohei. Because Ryohei still held me, still kissed my hands and cheeks and I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t test me,” Keita said numbly.

Ryuichi looked up briefly at him, swallowing the rest of his tears. “I didn’t need to.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t need to test you to know how disgusting you find me.”

“That’s absolutely not true.”

“Maybe we should go,” Ryohei said, and Ken nodded in agreement.

Keita and Ryuichi ignored the two of them, preferring instead to stare at each other. They continued to ignore Ryohei and Ken as they went to slip their shoes on.

“We’re going to my place,” Ken said.

Keita and Ryuichi ignored him.

“Call if you need anything,” Ryohei said.

Keita and Ryuichi ignored him, too. They also ignored the door when it shut behind Ryohei and Ken.

“You know it’s not true,” Keita said, finally, breaking the silence.

“You said I was a slut. You said I was slut that loved begging for it. And I was. I loved begging for it.” Ryuichi sneered. “I love being tied up and then made to beg. You were right. You were all along.”

“I said those things when we were fighting, Ryuichi. They’re not true.”

“You don’t say things you don’t think are true, Keita. Do you think I don’t know you by now?”

“Everyone says untrue things in a fight. You know how much I care about you, Ryuichi. You know I don’t find you dirty. You know I’m here for you not out of duty, but out of want. I need to know you’re safe. I have to have you by my side to keep you safe.”

“Enough!” Ryuichi shouted suddenly, and Keita jerked, startled. “Enough,” he said again, more quietly this time. “Do you know why William did it in the first place?”

“No.” And Keita failed to understand what that had to do with the present situation.

“I told Ryohei.”

“Then why?”

“He said you wanted me.”

Keita couldn’t even begin to think to respond to that.

“He said you wanted me, and that I wanted you. He didn’t know that before, I had…” Ryuichi looked off to the side, tears filling his eyes once more.

“Do you regret it?”

“Yes.”

Keita sucked in a harsh breath.

“I thought I was over you.”

“You’re not?” Keita bit the side of his tongue when his ears caught the hopeful tremor in his words, but Ryuichi didn’t seem to have heard it.

“I can’t trust you, and I don’t know why. I can’t bring myself to test you because if I confirmed it, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Can’t you tell? Can’t you tell just from looking at me?” Keita took a step forward.

“It’s not that simple. I just…” Ryuichi covered his face with his hands. “I can’t think anymore.”

“Don’t think so much, Ryuichi,” Keita said softly, and went to hold Ryuichi, but Ryuichi pulled away from Keita’s touch.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” Ryuichi said. “I can’t have you like this, but not knowing – never having –” He swiped at his face roughly with his sleeves and made for the front door.

“Ryuichi, wait – don’t –”

“Don’t touch me!” Ryuichi screamed, and flung his arm where Keita grabbed him, succeeding in throwing Keita to the floor.

Keita stared up at him, eyes wide.

Ryuichi slammed the door shut behind him.

“Ryuichi!” Keita shouted, and then ran a hand through his hair. “Fucking hell.” Ryuichi ran out with no shoes on, in his pyjamas only. He stumbled to the sofa, where he and Ryuichi had tossed their jackets earlier that day, and put his on, folding Ryuichi’s leather jacket over one arm. He jammed his feet into his sneakers and grabbed a pair of Ryuichi’s before he ran out the door.

Keita fished his cell phone out of his jacket pocket as soon as the lift doors opened on the ground floor, speed-dialling Ryohei. “Ryuichi’s gone,” he said, and ran out through the parking lot. “He’s gone.”

“What? Keita, what happened?”

“He’s gone!” Keita repeated. “I – I…” The hand holding his phone dropped to his side.

Ryuichi was curled up on the floor against the gate of their apartment complex.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine. I’ll call later,” Keita said, and hung up the phone. He approached Ryuichi quietly. “Ryuichi?”

Ryuichi stirred, but didn’t respond otherwise.

“It’s cold,” Keita said, and covered Ryuichi’s shoulders with his leather jacket.

“I forgot,” Ryuichi said.

“What did you forget?”

“Shoes,” Ryuichi answered, and lifted his head to gaze at Keita, who crouched on the ground next to him. “The ground hurt my feet so I stopped.”

Keita gave a relieved smile. “Silly Ryu-chan.”

Ryuichi sighed. “I can’t even run away properly.”

“Well you did a proper job of scaring the shit out of me,” Keita said, and held out Ryuichi’s sneakers. “Put these on.”

Ryuichi did as he was told, and Keita watched as Ryuichi’s trembling fingers gave up on making a knot. He leaned over to tie Ryuichi’s sneakers for him, and Ryuichi touched the top of Keita’s head gently.

“Keita…”

“What is it?”

Ryuichi’s eyes seemed impossibly wide and luminous from the sodium of the streetlight. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry. If I hadn’t, then…”

“You could go on forever down that line, Ryuichi. Don’t think it’s your fault. I certainly don’t think so. I don’t believe it is your fault. Just…come upstairs with me, Ryuichi. It’s cold.” Keita held his hand out to Ryuichi, and Ryuichi stared at Keita’s upturned palm.

“No.”

O.o o.O

Ryohei snapped his cell phone shut when Keita hung up on him.

“What’s wrong?” Ken asked, finally breaking the silence they had been driving in.

“You know, I have no idea,” Ryohei said. “Keita said ‘he’s gone!’ and then he went ‘never mind’ and hung up.”

“I’m guessing Ryuichi probably ran away. And then I’m guessing Keita was panicking and then found him.”

“Probably.”

They lapsed into silence once more.

“Ken-chan…”

“What?”

“I want to know what you’re thinking right now.”

“What I’m thinking?” Ken changed gears and accelerated.

“Yes.”

“I’m thinking you told Ryuichi you loved him. I’m thinking you never told me you loved me back. I’m thinking Ryuichi kissed you. I’m thinking you let him. I’m thinking you never even tried to deny it.”

“I would’ve told you anyway.”

“Why?” Ken pulled the car to a sudden stop at the curb with a screech, and Ryohei flung his arms out to brace himself against the dashboard, the seatbelt tightening around him and jerking him back against his seat. Ken unbuckled his seatbelt, flinging it off himself.

“Because. It’s the right thing to do.”

“The right thing to do would’ve been not to kiss Ryuichi in the first place. The right thing to do…god, I don’t even know what the right thing to do is.” Ken’s fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel, knuckles white, as he stared out through the windshield into the dark night.

Ryohei wanted to lay a hand on Ken’s shoulders, but didn’t, hand suspended in the space between them. “Ken…”

Ken took a deep breath. “I believe Ryuichi when he said he kissed you to test you. But it’s not just the kiss, Ryohei. You didn’t have to tell him you loved him. Even if you did, did you have to say it like that? With those words? ‘I love you so much I can’t even begin to tell you.’ What am I supposed to think after hearing something like that?”

“That love is different from what I feel for you.” Ryohei said, twisting to bring his knee up to the seat, facing Ken. “Ryuichi is like my brother. I love him, yes, but not – not like you.” He bit his lip, lowering his head. “Please,” he said softly. “Please believe me.”

Ken didn’t say anything.

“I would never let him kiss me like you do. I would never – I would never love him like I love you.” The last few words were whispered, and Ryohei bit harder down on his lower lip. “Is this it, Ken-chan?” he asked, after a long drawn out silence.

“Is this what?”

“It. The end. Of – of us.”

Ken didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry,” Ryohei said, and now the tears came and he couldn’t stop them no matter how hard he tried. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Ken, say something. Please, just say something.”

Ken still wouldn’t speak.

Ryohei unbuckled his seat belt, making to get out of the car.

“Where are you going?”

Ryohei froze. “Home.” He couldn’t look at Ken.

There was complete stillness inside the car, not even the sound of breathing breaking the silence.

Ryohei took in a deep, shuddering breath of air and unlocked his door to go.

Ken grabbed Ryohei’s shoulder then, spinning him around and slamming him against the door so Ryohei’s head knocked against the window sharply. “Don’t go,” Ken breathed, and then his lips were on Ryohei’s, desperate and hungry and Ryohei opened his mouth to Ken, welcoming him in, needing, just as desperate and wanting and Ryohei moaned into Ken’s mouth as Ken’s grip on him loosened and he traced his fingertips over Ryohei’s face and jaw instead, sliding into his hair and the back of his neck and good god Ryohei wanted to melt against the car door.

Ken pulled away, and Ryohei gasped for breath and his eyes opened. “Ken…”

“Don’t go.” Ken twirled a lock of Ryohei’s fringe between his thumb and index finger. “I’m sorry for doubting you. I’m sorry for making you cry. I promise, I won’t let that happen again.”

“Don’t promise me,” Ryohei said. “Words are just words.”

Ken leaned in again, and Ryohei drew his arms up around Ken’s neck.

O.o o.O

Ryuichi stood at the doorway of the bathroom, feet damp from having rinsed them off, and in a different set of pyjamas.

Keita was in the living room, just sitting.

How could he explain to Keita how Keita’s rejection had made him feel, that first night that started it all, that night that Ryuichi kissed his best friend and ruined everything? How could he make Keita understand what it felt like now, when he was still unsure of himself? How could he – how could he explain to Keita how much it tore at him, having to be with him to stop from fearing, having to be away from him to stop from hurting?

Same old, same old, Ryuichi thought, and padded out into the living room. “Keita.”

“Ryuichi.”

Neither of them spoke for a long while.

“Do you really think so little of me?” Keita asked, finally.

“No.” No, rather it was that Ryuichi thought too much of Keita.

“Do you really have so little faith in me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think that – that I do this for – that all I do for you is not for you?”

“I don’t know.”

Keita stood to face Ryuichi. “This – this is too much.”

“I know. But you were the one that told me to stop thinking so much.”

Keita swallowed, hard.

“We’re going around in circles,” Ryuichi said.

“How so?”

“We’re right where we started.”

“I don’t see how we are.”

“Don’t you remember that night, Keita?”

Keita didn’t answer.

“Don’t you remember the morning after, Keita?”

“This is different. You’re – you’ve –”

“Ah. That.” Ryuichi’s smile was bitter. “Yes, I’m different. And perhaps, so are you. But we’re back in the same situation, are we not? I kissed you that night, I confess to you on this one. And both times, you react the same way.”

“I…”

“Forget it, Keita. Figure out what you want. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Where are you going?”

“To sleep.”

“But you’re…” You’re not going to my room, Keita finished silently.

“Exactly. Good night, Keita.”

And Keita was left standing alone in the living room as Ryuichi’s bedroom door shut.

O.o o.O

Onto Part 9 = Movement/Stillness


A/N: I’m frustrating myself with this story and I’m reaching an impasse with myself. ‘Nuff said.