Fuuma surveyed the situation and decided he was going to kill Seishirou as soon as he woke up. “I said we’d get in an accident, but does he listen to me?” he grumbled. On the whole, however, he decided to just be grateful that Seishirou hadn’t accidentally bitten down when they’d crashed. He shoved the older man into a sitting position, zipped his fly, and got out of the car. Fortunately, the damage was light; they hadn’t been going very fast. He’d been keeping their speed low in case of this very eventuality.
They had hit a telephone pole, true, but it wasn’t as if he had wrapped the car around it. He wouldn’t risk driving it home, but it ought to be fine with some light work. Now the trick was getting back to the house.
Before he could ponder that further, the police pulled up. One of them got out of the car and walked over. “What happened here?” he asked.
Fuuma thought fast. “Not much to tell,” he said. “I was driving my friend home and something darted out into the road. I think it might’ve been a cat or something. Anyway, I swerved to avoid it, and this is the result.”
“Uh huh.” The officer looked unimpressed. “Can I see your license and registration please?”
Fuuma handed the man his driver’s license and dug in the glove compartment, where the registration fortunately was.
“This isn’t your car?” the officer asked.
“No, it’s his.” Fuuma gestured to Seishirou, who was still passed out in the front seat. “But he’s trashed, so I drove.”
“I see.” The officer noted something down. Fuuma wasn’t worried about getting in trouble for that; Seishirou was of legal age to drink, after all. “Would you mind taking a Breathalyzer test, Monou-san?”
Fuuma sighed, but his last drink had been nearly four hours ago at this point, and he wasn’t particularly worried. He took the Breathalyzer test and passed it easily. The officer gave him a suspicious look, but let it go.
“Someone’s called a tow truck and it should be here soon,” he said. “Do you have a way to get home?”
“I’ll flag a taxi,” Fuuma said. “Thanks.”
The officer waited until the tow truck came, at which point Fuuma hauled Seishirou out of the car and slapped him a few times, bringing him back to some semblance of coherency. It didn’t last long; he passed out again as soon as they were in the taxi.
“You sure he doesn’t need a hospital?” the taxi driver asked.
Fuuma pressed a hand against his forehead as if to shove back the advancing migraine. “Just drive the car.”
~~~~
Fuuma was bored. Excessively, painfully bored. Seishirou had been in bed all day, nursing his hangover. Though Fuuma had gotten great delight out of tormenting him, that had only kept him occupied for the first couple hours. Seishirou wasn’t really coherent enough to make torture amusing.
Sometime in the evening, he had fallen asleep anyway. Now Fuuma was watching television and wishing to hell that he had something better to do.
He decided to go for a walk, not particularly caring that it was past ten o’clock. Boredom knew no time limits.
Fuuma grinned suddenly. A walk would be good, and he knew exactly where he wanted to go.
He didn’t live particularly close to Ueno Park, but made it there in relatively good time. Then he leaned against one of the trees to wait.
He didn’t have to wait long. Subaru approached quietly, his hands blood stained and his expression empty. He leaned against the Tree and lit a cigarette, looking tired. “Whoever you are, just come out,” he said wearily. “I don’t have the energy to play guessing games.”
Fuuma stepped out of the shadows. Subaru glanced over, then resumed staring straight ahead. “Don’t look so pleased to see me,” Fuuma said, smirking. “You might hurt your face with that huge smile.”
Subaru didn’t respond to that at all.
Fuuma walked over and put one hand on the Tree, leaning close to him. “I told you that I’d see you again, didn’t I?”
“Most people are intelligent enough not to approach me here,” Subaru said dryly.
Fuuma laughed. “You think I can’t take care of myself?”
“I think,” Subaru said coolly, giving Fuuma an appraising glance, “that you don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“And what makes you assume that?” Fuuma asked. “I know quite a bit about you, Subaru.”
“Oh?” Subaru asked, his voice now cold. “And what is it that you think you know?”
“I know that you aren’t happy,” Fuuma said in a low voice, leaning closer.
Subaru looked at him dispassionately. “That doesn’t exactly make you Einstein.”
“I know why you aren’t happy,” Fuuma clarified.
“Enlighten me,” Subaru said, taking a long drag on his cigarette.
Fuuma tilted his head to one side, looking at Subaru carefully. “It’s a funny thing about seeing Wishes,” he finally said. “I can’t not see them. I look at a person, and what they’re thinking, what they want . . . it just leaps out at me. And when it’s someone like you, and the desire and the reality are so far out of synch with one another . . . it’s like looking into a really bright light. It hurts just to look at you.”
“That’s . . . fascinating,” Subaru said, his voice dripping sarcasm. “Are you done now?”
Fuuma chuckled. “Not by a long shot,” he said. “I didn’t answer your question. The reason you’re so unhappy is because what you have is the direct opposite of what you want. It’s not like it’s a little bit off, or sort of wrong -- no, you have exactly what you don’t want.”
Subaru didn’t reply to that.
Fuuma laughed again. “Poor Subaru . . . you’re stuck being the one in charge, and you really hate it, don’t you.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Subaru said in a low voice.
“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” Fuuma said. “You were trying to take Seishirou’s place, so you took Kamui under your wing to control, to hurt. But then you found out that Seishirou was still alive, and now you don’t want to be him anymore -- you want to be his.”
Subaru pitched his finished cigarette and lit another. His hands were trembling.
“And Kamui isn’t quite as spineless as you were,” Fuuma continued casually. “He fought back. He didn’t do it in the way that you had expected, either. He really got to you when he tried to kill himself, didn’t he. Because just like that, the last person who cares about you . . . gone. Poof.” Fuuma smiled at Subaru. “So now you have to be nice to him. You can’t even control him like you originally planned. You have to walk the fucking line. He’s not letting you be in control, but at the same time he’s refusing to take control himself, and it’s driving you even crazier than you already are.”
Subaru let out a heavy sigh. “Is there a point to this?”
“You asked,” Fuuma said. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have brought it up.”
Subaru looked away. “Why are you here, Fuuma?”
“To give you an outlet for all of that frustration,” Fuuma said with a grin, leaning so close that their noses nearly touched. “What else?”
Subaru glared at him fiercely. “I see nearly dying didn’t affect your sex drive in the slightest.”
Fuuma smirked. “Why would it?” He shrugged, still not backing away an inch. “Admit it. You want me.”
“Just because you think everyone wants you doesn’t mean it’s true,” Subaru stated evenly.
“And just because you don’t want to want me doesn’t mean you don’t,” Fuuma replied.
Subaru pushed him away. “Leave me alone.”
Fuuma paused, as if he were actually considering it. “No, I don’t think I will.” He leaned forward suddenly, grabbing Subaru’s wrist and pinning it to the Tree. “Not until you really want me to.”
Subaru glared daggers at him. “If you don’t let me go -- ”
“You’ll feed me to the Tree? Yeah, I know. I like a little danger in my sex life,” Fuuma replied. Without further warning, he pressed his lips against Subaru’s.
Subaru’s other hand came up and slapped him hard across the face.
Fuuma let go of his wrist and stumbled backwards, but only the slightest bit. “Don’t be like that, Subaru . . . I’ll think that you don’t like me.”
“I don’t like you,” Subaru hissed.
Fuuma grabbed the hand that had slapped him and pulled Subaru closer, so their bodies were touching. Subaru turned his face away, feeling a certain pressure against his abdomen. Fuuma smirked, seeing Subaru’s expression, and thrust his hips against Subaru’s. “What about that?” he asked. “Do you like that?”
Subaru snarled wordlessly and tried to push Fuuma away again. Fuuma pinned his wrists above his head and kissed him roughly, forcing his tongue between Subaru’s lips. He ended the kiss quickly, before Subaru could bite his tongue as Fuuma suspected he was going to try to do.
“Let me go,” Subaru said coldly.
“Sorry, request denied,” Fuuma whispered, right into Subaru’s ear, licking at his earlobe. He noticed, slightly amused, that Subaru was no longer actively trying to push him away. He released Subaru’s wrists, letting his arms fall back down to his sides. “After all,” he murmured, nipping gently at Subaru’s ear, “don’t you want to get back at Seishirou?”
Subaru pushed him away abruptly and stared at him. “What the hell gave you that idea?” he snapped.
“Your little memory spell,” Fuuma said with a smirk. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“No!” Subaru replied, stung. “That was an accident!”
“But you’re refusing to fix it, aren’t you?” Fuuma said with a grin. “You’re getting a real kick out of watching him squirm.” He took a very deliberate step towards Subaru, backing him against the Tree.
“I’m not watching him squirm,” Subaru growled. “I hardly ever see him.”
“Oh, give me a break,” Fuuma said. “It would piss him off if you did anything with me and you know it. That’s why you haven’t just dismissed me out of hand. Well, that and because you’re horny as hell and Kamui just isn’t doing it for you.”
“Shut the hell up,” Subaru replied.
“Now, now, let’s be fair,” Fuuma said. “You agreed that Kamui wasn’t giving you what you needed.”
“When the hell did I agree to that?” Subaru asked, sounding rather put out.
“It’s in everything you say and do, Subaru,” Fuuma replied, pressing his body closer to Subaru’s. “It hangs in the air around you. You’re frustrated, and you want to piss Seishirou off, and this’ll do both nicely.”
“Why would doing anything with you piss off Seishirou-san more than the fact that I’m sleeping with Kamui?” Subaru bit out.
“Because, my dear Subaru, Seishirou isn’t sleeping with Kamui,” Fuuma said, sounding amused.
Subaru stared at him in shock. “You . . . and Seishirou-san . . .”
“Yeah,” Fuuma said. He grinned. “You mad?”
“Just . . . surprised,” Subaru said.
“Man, you should’ve seen him when he found out about you and Kamui,” Fuuma said in a low voice, leaning closer. “He was beside himself, and the funniest thing was that he didn’t even know why he was upset. I guess I should be grateful . . . I’ve never been fucked like that in my entire life.”
Subaru went tense, but said nothing.
“He uses me,” Fuuma said, leaning in and brushing his lips over the skin of Subaru’s neck. “And I know it. But I let him, because he’s fucking hotter than hell in bed, and because he’s so screwed up that he doesn’t know what else to do with himself.”
Subaru opened his mouth to speak, but all that escaped was a weak gasp.
Fuuma ran one of his hands up inside Subaru’s shirt. “Not that you’re much better,” he murmured. “But it works out well for me, doesn’t it? You need someone like me, someone who can . . . control you . . .” He lowered his lips to Subaru’s again, kissing him hungrily.
He found himself being pulled backwards and noted, somewhat alarmed, that he had vines wrapped around him. A single sakura petal drifted by his face.
“The Tree doesn’t like you,” Subaru said softly, stepping away from it.
“I noticed that,” Fuuma said mildly, trying to pull free.
“The more you pull, the tighter they’ll get,” Subaru added. “Seems it still has some loyalty to its old master.” He glanced at the Tree briefly. “It thinks I belong to him . . . just like everyone else does. Even Kamui.”
“I don’t,” Fuuma said. “You belong to yourself. You can do whatever the hell you want. And if Seishirou wouldn’t approve . . . all the better. Ne?”
Subaru looked up at him for a long minute, then turned to the Tree. “Release him. Please.”
Fuuma was dumped uncerimoniously on the ground.
“Leave me alone,” Subaru said to Fuuma, and before Fuuma could reply, he disappeared into the shadows.
~~~~
“So where is Sumeragi-san again?” Keiichi asked, flopping onto the extremely comfortable couch in the living room. It was the first time he’d been in the apartment that Kamui and Subaru shared, and was well aware that he’d only been invited because Subaru had plans to be out.
“I don’t know exactly,” Kamui said, sitting next to him. “He had some big job for tonight, and said he might not be back until morning. That’s why he said he didn’t mind if you came over.”
Their thinly veiled excuse for having Keiichi come over was that there was a big chemistry test the next day and they both needed to study. They had actually done this for a good few hours, but it was growing late and they were both tired. Though Keiichi had mentioned that he should probably go home, he was reluctant to leave Kamui on his own and Kamui was just as reluctant to be left.
Kamui had made them some tea and they had decided to watch some television. That had been nearly an hour previous.
“He doesn’t like me very much,” Keiichi said with a sigh.
Kamui gave him a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that. Why is that, do you think? I mean, if he just felt threatened by you, I’d think he’d especially want to be here when you were.”
“Well, we had some . . . uh . . . words,” Keiichi said, turning slightly pink.
Kamui looked at him. “Elaborate.”
“It was in the hospital after you, uh, you know,” Keiichi said, looking away. “I told him that if he didn’t start treating you better, I would . . . uh . . . sort of resort to drastic measures.”
Kamui decided he really didn’t want to know what those drastic measures were. “I see,” he finally said.
“Are you mad at me?” Keiichi asked hesitantly.
“For speaking up in my defense?” Kamui asked. “No, I’m not mad. Just a little surprised is all. That’s not the kind of person you usually are.”
“I was really worried,” Keiichi mumbled. “And it really seemed that . . . that he had driven you to it.”
“Well.” Kamui looked at his hands. “He did.”
“So you can understand that I wasn’t really thinking,” Keiichi said. “But it seems to have worked, so . . .”
Kamui smiled. “I’m glad you did it, even if Subaru doesn’t like you,” he said. “It’s nice to know that you stood up for me.”
Keiichi blushed. “As to why Sumeragi-san doesn’t feel threatened by me,” he finally said, “I think he’s just assuming that if you were going to leave him for me . . . you would have already.”
Kamui looked away. “I guess that makes sense, in a twisted sort of way.”
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.
“It’s kind of funny, though, the way he acts around Fuuma,” Kamui finally said. “He seemed terrified that Fuuma would sweep me off my feet and run off into the night.”
Keiichi laughed. “And he won’t?”
“No, he won’t,” Kamui said. “I’m sure of that. He’s . . . different now. Not the Fuuma that I wanted back, or the nasty Fuuma . . . just Fuuma. And he understands that we can’t be together.”
“That’s good, I guess,” Keiichi said. “Now if only he’ll stop hitting on me . . .”
Kamui gave him a blank look.
“I didn’t tell you that story?” Keiichi laughed. “It was when I ran into him outside the hospital. He was definitely flirting. It was funny. You know, in retrospect. At the time it was embarrassing and I wanted to punch him.”
Kamui snickered. “I can just picture your face. What’d he say?”
“Oh, stuff like how if I was going to ‘learn the way of things’ I needed someone experienced . . . suggestive gestures with popsicles . . .”
Kamui practically howled with laughter, picturing the situation. “Poor Keiichi,” he managed to say. “Attacked by Fuuma the Slut . . .”
“I’m not sure if ‘attacked’ is the word I would pick,” Keiichi replied. “More like . . . molested.”
Kamui burst into laughter again.
“He was just mad because I didn’t give in with grace at the beginning,” Keiichi said. “I tried to convince him that I was waiting for the right guy, but he didn’t believe me.”
“Why not?” Kamui asked, regaining his composure.
“Because . . .” Keiichi hesitated. “Because I’ve already found the right guy for me.” He shrugged. “And he’s not interested.”
“Keiichi . . .” Kamui said softly. “It’s not that I’m not interested. It’s just that . . . I have to stay with Subaru.”
“No you don’t,” Keiichi said wearily. “You don’t have to. You just want to. But never mind. I don’t really feel like going into that again.”
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Kamui said, looking away.
“I know you didn’t,” Keiichi said. “But no offense, that doesn’t really help. At least . . . at least when Sumeragi-san was treating you badly, I could keep up some pretense of hope that someday you might change your mind. But now he’s not. So I just don’t have a chance.”
“Keiichi, why . . . why can’t you just forget about me?” Kamui asked, frustrated. “Why can’t you go find someone else, someone who deserves you? God knows that I don’t . . .”
Keiichi shrugged. “It’s not that easy. Why can’t you forget about Sumeragi-san? Why can’t he forget about Seishirou? Love just doesn’t work like that.”
“I don’t like seeing you this unhappy,” Kamui said miserably, looking away.
Keiichi smiled. “I’m resilient. I’ll live.”
Kamui managed to return the smile. “I wish that was good enough.” He looked up at Keiichi, then quickly away. “Fuuma said . . . that your two Wishes were tearing you apart. Because you want me to be happy . . . but you want me to be yours.”
“That just about sums it up, yeah,” Keiichi said lightly.
“I wish . . . that there was something I could do . . .”
Keiichi said nothing. There were too many things he wanted to say.
~~~~
“Hey, wake up.” Fuuma kicked the bed. “Wake up.”
“Unnnh?” Seishirou looked up blearily.
“Wake up. I’m horny.”
“Oh God.” Seishirou burrowed under the blankets. “My head still hurts, Fuuma . . .”
“Yeah, well, it serves you right for going out and getting drunk and stoned.” Fuuma pulled the blankets off the bed, to reveal Seishirou was wearing nothing but his boxers.
“Serves me right? You’re the one who made me go.” Seishirou asked, sounding a bit more awake and quite insulted.
“You didn’t need to get stoned.” Fuuma plunked onto the bed, straddling Seishirou.
Seishirou gave him a look. “That, at least, wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t trying to get stoned.”
“Oh, give me a break,” Fuuma said, idly running one finger up and down Seishirou’s chest. “You must have known after one puff of that thing that it was a joint, and you kept smoking it.”
“So?” Seishirou asked, closing his eyes and relaxing under Fuuma’s touch.
“So, you didn’t have to get drunk and stoned. Now you owe me from last night. You never finished what you started.”
“I might have if you hadn’t crashed into a telephone pole,” Seishirou retorted.
“Oh, and whose fault was that?” Fuuma asked.
Seishirou just smirked. “You had a bad day. What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Fuuma said. “That was the exact problem. I need to get laid, and you’re my last chance.”
“It’s good to know that I’m your first choice,” Seishirou replied.
“You might’ve been if you’d been conscious,” Fuuma snapped back. “Now quit your whining.”
“Tell me what’s wrong and I will,” Seishirou said, sounding amused.
“Nothing,” Fuuma insisted. “I went out to try to get laid, that’s all.”
“And I sense by the word ‘try’ that someone finally proved immune to your charms?” Seishirou asked, sounding even more amused.
Fuuma just grinned. “For today, yes. But don’t worry . . . it won’t happen again.”