More HikaGo fic
Jul. 25th, 2005 11:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sakon76Tonight's writings. Long-ish, to make up for last night's.
His stomach twisted as Hikaru stood to go record his win the next game day. He shoved the gnawing discomfort to the back of his consciousness as something to be dealt with /later/, not now and certainly not here. He added the days up as he crossed the room. Three days since he'd become a vampire, three more before that since he'd had real food... people fasted for a lot longer than a week, didn't they? And it wasn't like he'd been trying not to eat... he just hadn't figured out a good place to get blood yet. The idea of robbing a blood bank was laughable. He wouldn't know where to begin planning. Besides, didn't they mix stuff in with the blood to make it last? He wasn't sure how well his body would handle the stuff, whatever it was. He'd already decided there was no way he was going to be like the dickweed jerkwad who'd done this to him, so drinking from people was right out.
That narrowed him down to animals. Fur aside, cats and dogs he'd eliminated because he *liked* cats and dogs. So far his best thought had been to find someplace that had cows or horses and to take things from there. He was still working on how to avoid getting caught.
He marked the triangle above his name to record the win, and straightened.
Blood rushed through his ears, deafening. The room temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. Hikaru had only felt this way once before in his life.
/Sai?/ he thought incredulously, turning around. But before he saw the ghost, the world went black and Hikaru felt the weightless sensation of falling.
*
Shindou just couldn't do anything quietly. Case in point: collapsing in the game room instead of out in the hall, distracting three-quarters of the players from their game. Four or five die-hard jerks didn't even look up, though, too absorbed in their games to notice the way Waya Yoshitaka's friend fell as though pole-axed. He mentally sneered at them as he went to help. Hell, even Touya Akira, who Yoshitaka still thought was a stuck-up jerk even if he and Shindou did get along, half-rose from his seat.
Between them Yoshitaka and Kuwabara-san (the 3-Dan Shindou had been playing, no relation to Kuwabara Honinbou) managed to get Shindou out of the room and ensconced in a small office, laying down on a sofa. Apologetically, Kuwabara left--he had no reason to stay. Yoshitaka hesitated, torn--this was his friend, but in there was his game and he didn't want to forfeit.
"I'll stay with him," a voice said from right behind him, making Yoshitaka jump.
Touya Akira regarded him with cool eyes. He'd snuck up quietly as a cat.
"Don't you have a game?" Yoshitaka asked.
"My opponent resigned," Touya responded. "Don't you?"
Yoshitaka looked toward the door again, torn.
"Go," said Touya. "I'll stay with him."
Nodding, Yoshitaka stepped toward the door.
Shindou wouldn't want him to lose.
*
Akira sighed and closed the door after Shindou's friend. He turned and regarded the unconscious teenager on the sofa, and closed his mouth on the snarky comments he wanted to make on stupid Go players who couldn't take care of themselves and interrupted everyone's games with their melodramatic antics.
After all, it would be so much more satisfying to unleash his anger on a conscious Shindou.
So he sat down on a chair and settled in to wait.
Fortunately, his waiting was short.
*
Hikaru woke with a pounding headache.
"You are an idiot, you know," the voice of his closest friend reassured him. Hikaru winced and clutched his head. "Aspirin?" Touya asked.
"I don't think I can have them," he answered, remembering how bad they'd tasted on the way back up when his mother had made him take a couple.
Silence, and a sigh. The world outside of his eyelids dimmed slightly and he heard the faint squeak-rattle of blinds being closed. "Better?" Touya asked.
Hikaru cracked an eyelid. It still seemed very bright in the room, but he'd already figured out that his eyes were more sensitive than they used to be. "Some. Thanks." He levered himself up, still pressing one hand to the side of his head. Duh-dum, duh-dum.
"So," Touya said conversationally, taking a seat in a chair that faced Hikaru, "are you going to tell me why you passed out *in the game room*, or am I going to have to guess?"
"Don't," Hikaru bit out, angry. "You've got *no* right to lecture me when you don't have a clue--"
"Don't I?" Touya demanded. "If I remember correctly, I was the one staying with you when you were sick and... dead." His raised voice dropped down to a whisper on that last word and it seemed to sober his anger.
It sobered Hikaru's too, and he looked away. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Mm." Another quiet sigh. "You haven't been eating, have you?"
"I'm not exactly high on choices," Hikaru pointed out. "I'm working on it."
"And passing out."
"I wasn't planning on that."
Touya actually cracked a smile. "No, I don't imagine you were."
"What're you doing in here?" Hikaru asked. "You were still playing, weren't you?"
"He resigned two moves after your collapse."
"Oh." Hikaru closed his eyes and concentrated on slowing down his breathing, relaxing his shoulders and back. It would make the headache go away faster. Akira's chair squeaked, and he heard the shh-thock of the door being latched. "Thanks," he said quietly.
"Have you ever been really scared?" Akira asked.
"Yes," Hikaru replied honestly. "Scared of dying."
"Then you'll know how I'm feeling right now."
Hikaru opened his eyes to see that Touya had unbuttoned his shirt halfway, the collar flicked neatly open to expose his neck.
Part of Hikaru wanted to be in shock and yell. Part wanted to flee the implicit offer. A very tiny part was glad Touya was making this easy on him. And a part of him just smiled wryly, understanding now what Touya had been setting up and spinning moves ahead into the future, trying to figure out how this was going to turn out.
"No," Hikaru said.
*
Akira was trying not to think, and it was only making him think faster. All the things that could go wrong... he could die from this. And he very much did not want to die. But neither did he want Shindou to die, and he very much did not see where his friend/rival was making any progress on the "eating" part of his condition. And he told him so.
"I'm working on it," Shindou replied. "I was thinking... animals. Cows or something."
"Shindou," Akira said with a feeling of solid dubiousity, "we live in a major metropolitan center. There are no cows within fifty kilometers of here."
Shindou crossed his arms. "There are trains. And buses."
If Shindou was going to be stubborn, so was he. "Right. And once you manage to find a cow, what are you going to do with it?"
"I haven't gotten that far yet," Shindou muttered, which Akira could only regard as bad planning on his part.
"You can see ten moves ahead on a Go board and you trip over your own feet when trying to get a meal," he informed his counterpart. Angering Shindou was easy. Pushing him to move the way Akira wanted... that was harder. Not that a very large portion of himself actually wanted Shindou drinking his blood, but.... "Shindou, you need to eat."
"Not from people!" Shindou refused. He met Akira's eyes. "Not from you."
"Have you thought of the fact," Akira said softly, and he was afraid, so afraid, that this would work, but even more scared that it wouldn't and he'd end up watching Shindou Hikaru die again, "that there is a difference between what is taken and what is freely offered?"
Shindou closed his eyes and exhaled. "I know there is," he answered. His eyes opened and in the darkened room they were the gray of smoke. "That's not the point."
"Then what is?"
"If I can stop."
*
"Shindou," Touya said quietly, "you can stop." And there was such serene surety in his voice that Hikaru wanted to hit him on general principles.
"You don't know that!" Hikaru denied. "*I* don't know that! If I screw up--"
"Then I die," Touya said, and though his voice shook just a little, his eyes were calm.
It shook Hikaru, how much trust Touya had in him. If their positions were reversed, would he be doing the same? He thought about it, about how he'd altered his whole life chasing after Touya. "I can't do it," he said helplessly, and Touya's eyes hardened a little. "I can't let you die."
"Then don't," Touya said, and took a step toward him.
Hikaru knew when he'd lost.
*
"I don't even know how to do this," Shindou muttered, eyeing Akira's neck.
"Then what were you going to do with the cow?" Akira couldn't resist ribbing him. Inside, though, he felt cold. This was really happening. He'd offered his blood to a vampire, which everything he'd read online agreed was a Really Bad Idea.
"Wing it," Shindou replied cheekily. He smiled at Akira, but it was nervous. "Like this."
"What did the guy who attacked you do?"
It was like a brick wall had slammed down between them and Akira kicked himself for bringing up the memory.
Still, Shindou did seem to take something from it, pacing around so he was behind Akira, fingers parting Akira's hair, brushing it aside. "Like this," Shindou said softly by his throat, and Akira fought to resist shuddering. It was all ice through him now, the fear. "Don't," Shindou said. "Don't be afraid." He laughed, but it sounded nervous. "It's making me even more afraid."
"Sorry," Akira apologized, and found to his horror that his voice was trembling. "I can't seem to help it."
Shindou pushed gently and Akira followed. They ended up sitting back on the sofa, Shindou still behind him.
"Just do it."
"You sound like a Nike ad." Still, Shindou put lips to his neck. They were warm, and he could feel Shindou breathing behind him, chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. It helped calm Akira some. Then Shindou bit and there was pain, like a doctor putting the needle in wrong and wiggling it about, trying to find a vein, only a thousand times worse. It was teeth, and no matter how sharp they were, Akira would've preferred a needle--
Then, slowly, the pain began to recede beneath the pounding of his blood and the heat of Shindou's mouth, like a kiss--
And the heat spangled off, reflecting, refracting, into warm melting pleasure and suddenly he understood Shindou's obscure references to what he'd felt because it felt good, so good, and Shindou could keep drinking forever if this was what it was like... wave after wave of pleasure and relaxation, like that instant after release where one floated free of life and gravity. No rules, no restrictions, only *being* and breath.
And mercifully it did go on for forever, until it slowly eased away and Akira felt Shindou's mouth on his neck again, a tongue gently lapping, and then, finally, cessation.
It shocked him, where he'd just gone. That Shindou could have taken him there. That he wanted to go again. His hands were trembling.
Shindou's breath by his ear was soft and low. He wondered if the other Go player, too, couldn't think of anything to say.
Eventually, the murmur came. "Thank you," Shindou said, and in his voice was self-knowledge and a hint of pain, but also relief and the something profound that surfaced tantalizingly in his games played now and again... the hint of the Hand of God that Akira had seen so long ago in him, and would not give up on chasing until it was fully revealed, and his.
"You're welcome," he replied in words that were entirely too inadequate to convey any of his confused feelings.
His stomach twisted as Hikaru stood to go record his win the next game day. He shoved the gnawing discomfort to the back of his consciousness as something to be dealt with /later/, not now and certainly not here. He added the days up as he crossed the room. Three days since he'd become a vampire, three more before that since he'd had real food... people fasted for a lot longer than a week, didn't they? And it wasn't like he'd been trying not to eat... he just hadn't figured out a good place to get blood yet. The idea of robbing a blood bank was laughable. He wouldn't know where to begin planning. Besides, didn't they mix stuff in with the blood to make it last? He wasn't sure how well his body would handle the stuff, whatever it was. He'd already decided there was no way he was going to be like the dickweed jerkwad who'd done this to him, so drinking from people was right out.
That narrowed him down to animals. Fur aside, cats and dogs he'd eliminated because he *liked* cats and dogs. So far his best thought had been to find someplace that had cows or horses and to take things from there. He was still working on how to avoid getting caught.
He marked the triangle above his name to record the win, and straightened.
Blood rushed through his ears, deafening. The room temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. Hikaru had only felt this way once before in his life.
/Sai?/ he thought incredulously, turning around. But before he saw the ghost, the world went black and Hikaru felt the weightless sensation of falling.
Shindou just couldn't do anything quietly. Case in point: collapsing in the game room instead of out in the hall, distracting three-quarters of the players from their game. Four or five die-hard jerks didn't even look up, though, too absorbed in their games to notice the way Waya Yoshitaka's friend fell as though pole-axed. He mentally sneered at them as he went to help. Hell, even Touya Akira, who Yoshitaka still thought was a stuck-up jerk even if he and Shindou did get along, half-rose from his seat.
Between them Yoshitaka and Kuwabara-san (the 3-Dan Shindou had been playing, no relation to Kuwabara Honinbou) managed to get Shindou out of the room and ensconced in a small office, laying down on a sofa. Apologetically, Kuwabara left--he had no reason to stay. Yoshitaka hesitated, torn--this was his friend, but in there was his game and he didn't want to forfeit.
"I'll stay with him," a voice said from right behind him, making Yoshitaka jump.
Touya Akira regarded him with cool eyes. He'd snuck up quietly as a cat.
"Don't you have a game?" Yoshitaka asked.
"My opponent resigned," Touya responded. "Don't you?"
Yoshitaka looked toward the door again, torn.
"Go," said Touya. "I'll stay with him."
Nodding, Yoshitaka stepped toward the door.
Shindou wouldn't want him to lose.
Akira sighed and closed the door after Shindou's friend. He turned and regarded the unconscious teenager on the sofa, and closed his mouth on the snarky comments he wanted to make on stupid Go players who couldn't take care of themselves and interrupted everyone's games with their melodramatic antics.
After all, it would be so much more satisfying to unleash his anger on a conscious Shindou.
So he sat down on a chair and settled in to wait.
Fortunately, his waiting was short.
Hikaru woke with a pounding headache.
"You are an idiot, you know," the voice of his closest friend reassured him. Hikaru winced and clutched his head. "Aspirin?" Touya asked.
"I don't think I can have them," he answered, remembering how bad they'd tasted on the way back up when his mother had made him take a couple.
Silence, and a sigh. The world outside of his eyelids dimmed slightly and he heard the faint squeak-rattle of blinds being closed. "Better?" Touya asked.
Hikaru cracked an eyelid. It still seemed very bright in the room, but he'd already figured out that his eyes were more sensitive than they used to be. "Some. Thanks." He levered himself up, still pressing one hand to the side of his head. Duh-dum, duh-dum.
"So," Touya said conversationally, taking a seat in a chair that faced Hikaru, "are you going to tell me why you passed out *in the game room*, or am I going to have to guess?"
"Don't," Hikaru bit out, angry. "You've got *no* right to lecture me when you don't have a clue--"
"Don't I?" Touya demanded. "If I remember correctly, I was the one staying with you when you were sick and... dead." His raised voice dropped down to a whisper on that last word and it seemed to sober his anger.
It sobered Hikaru's too, and he looked away. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Mm." Another quiet sigh. "You haven't been eating, have you?"
"I'm not exactly high on choices," Hikaru pointed out. "I'm working on it."
"And passing out."
"I wasn't planning on that."
Touya actually cracked a smile. "No, I don't imagine you were."
"What're you doing in here?" Hikaru asked. "You were still playing, weren't you?"
"He resigned two moves after your collapse."
"Oh." Hikaru closed his eyes and concentrated on slowing down his breathing, relaxing his shoulders and back. It would make the headache go away faster. Akira's chair squeaked, and he heard the shh-thock of the door being latched. "Thanks," he said quietly.
"Have you ever been really scared?" Akira asked.
"Yes," Hikaru replied honestly. "Scared of dying."
"Then you'll know how I'm feeling right now."
Hikaru opened his eyes to see that Touya had unbuttoned his shirt halfway, the collar flicked neatly open to expose his neck.
Part of Hikaru wanted to be in shock and yell. Part wanted to flee the implicit offer. A very tiny part was glad Touya was making this easy on him. And a part of him just smiled wryly, understanding now what Touya had been setting up and spinning moves ahead into the future, trying to figure out how this was going to turn out.
"No," Hikaru said.
Akira was trying not to think, and it was only making him think faster. All the things that could go wrong... he could die from this. And he very much did not want to die. But neither did he want Shindou to die, and he very much did not see where his friend/rival was making any progress on the "eating" part of his condition. And he told him so.
"I'm working on it," Shindou replied. "I was thinking... animals. Cows or something."
"Shindou," Akira said with a feeling of solid dubiousity, "we live in a major metropolitan center. There are no cows within fifty kilometers of here."
Shindou crossed his arms. "There are trains. And buses."
If Shindou was going to be stubborn, so was he. "Right. And once you manage to find a cow, what are you going to do with it?"
"I haven't gotten that far yet," Shindou muttered, which Akira could only regard as bad planning on his part.
"You can see ten moves ahead on a Go board and you trip over your own feet when trying to get a meal," he informed his counterpart. Angering Shindou was easy. Pushing him to move the way Akira wanted... that was harder. Not that a very large portion of himself actually wanted Shindou drinking his blood, but.... "Shindou, you need to eat."
"Not from people!" Shindou refused. He met Akira's eyes. "Not from you."
"Have you thought of the fact," Akira said softly, and he was afraid, so afraid, that this would work, but even more scared that it wouldn't and he'd end up watching Shindou Hikaru die again, "that there is a difference between what is taken and what is freely offered?"
Shindou closed his eyes and exhaled. "I know there is," he answered. His eyes opened and in the darkened room they were the gray of smoke. "That's not the point."
"Then what is?"
"If I can stop."
"Shindou," Touya said quietly, "you can stop." And there was such serene surety in his voice that Hikaru wanted to hit him on general principles.
"You don't know that!" Hikaru denied. "*I* don't know that! If I screw up--"
"Then I die," Touya said, and though his voice shook just a little, his eyes were calm.
It shook Hikaru, how much trust Touya had in him. If their positions were reversed, would he be doing the same? He thought about it, about how he'd altered his whole life chasing after Touya. "I can't do it," he said helplessly, and Touya's eyes hardened a little. "I can't let you die."
"Then don't," Touya said, and took a step toward him.
Hikaru knew when he'd lost.
"I don't even know how to do this," Shindou muttered, eyeing Akira's neck.
"Then what were you going to do with the cow?" Akira couldn't resist ribbing him. Inside, though, he felt cold. This was really happening. He'd offered his blood to a vampire, which everything he'd read online agreed was a Really Bad Idea.
"Wing it," Shindou replied cheekily. He smiled at Akira, but it was nervous. "Like this."
"What did the guy who attacked you do?"
It was like a brick wall had slammed down between them and Akira kicked himself for bringing up the memory.
Still, Shindou did seem to take something from it, pacing around so he was behind Akira, fingers parting Akira's hair, brushing it aside. "Like this," Shindou said softly by his throat, and Akira fought to resist shuddering. It was all ice through him now, the fear. "Don't," Shindou said. "Don't be afraid." He laughed, but it sounded nervous. "It's making me even more afraid."
"Sorry," Akira apologized, and found to his horror that his voice was trembling. "I can't seem to help it."
Shindou pushed gently and Akira followed. They ended up sitting back on the sofa, Shindou still behind him.
"Just do it."
"You sound like a Nike ad." Still, Shindou put lips to his neck. They were warm, and he could feel Shindou breathing behind him, chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. It helped calm Akira some. Then Shindou bit and there was pain, like a doctor putting the needle in wrong and wiggling it about, trying to find a vein, only a thousand times worse. It was teeth, and no matter how sharp they were, Akira would've preferred a needle--
Then, slowly, the pain began to recede beneath the pounding of his blood and the heat of Shindou's mouth, like a kiss--
And the heat spangled off, reflecting, refracting, into warm melting pleasure and suddenly he understood Shindou's obscure references to what he'd felt because it felt good, so good, and Shindou could keep drinking forever if this was what it was like... wave after wave of pleasure and relaxation, like that instant after release where one floated free of life and gravity. No rules, no restrictions, only *being* and breath.
And mercifully it did go on for forever, until it slowly eased away and Akira felt Shindou's mouth on his neck again, a tongue gently lapping, and then, finally, cessation.
It shocked him, where he'd just gone. That Shindou could have taken him there. That he wanted to go again. His hands were trembling.
Shindou's breath by his ear was soft and low. He wondered if the other Go player, too, couldn't think of anything to say.
Eventually, the murmur came. "Thank you," Shindou said, and in his voice was self-knowledge and a hint of pain, but also relief and the something profound that surfaced tantalizingly in his games played now and again... the hint of the Hand of God that Akira had seen so long ago in him, and would not give up on chasing until it was fully revealed, and his.
"You're welcome," he replied in words that were entirely too inadequate to convey any of his confused feelings.
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no subject
Date: 2005-07-26 01:03 pm (UTC)(Cows...mwahahaha.)
no subject
Date: 2005-07-26 03:03 pm (UTC)And this isn't even yaoi fic. Poor Akira. (Poor Hikaru?)
And, yes, cows. Because Hikaru can be like that.
no subject
Date: 2005-07-26 03:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-26 03:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-26 06:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-26 09:31 pm (UTC)We're getting a really good view of life from Hikaru's perspective, but only slight flashes of what's going on with Akira. A little more balance would be nice.
For example, there was a brief mention in this one that Akira's been doing his own research about Hikaru's condition. Would it be possible to get an expanded segment on that inserted earlier, possibly either right before or right after the section with Hikaru's death?
I really like where you're taking this so far - Hikaru's stumbling around figuring stuff out is very cool. Have any of his other friends noticed his weird behaviour yet? Are they going to, or just going to stay oblivious?
Anyways, yay new fic bits!
no subject
Date: 2005-07-27 12:45 am (UTC)And, hmm. You're right. More balance would be good since this is turning itself into a Hikaru-and-Akira fic instead of just the Hikaru fic I thought it was going to be. If that makes sense.
And, no, none of his other friends have noticed yet. After all, if Hikaru is good at one thing (other than Go and getting under Akira's skin.), it's being a little off. I think they're used to it. And I take the fifth as to what may or may not end up happening still. ^_^