AN: I am on writer’s block for The Gigolo. I feel so frustrated and this fic came out. I know that I don’t have much experience on writing dark-themed fics so please go easy on me. I hope you enjoy reading!

NOTE: Rated M. Non-graphic. This is my first time writing something het under this category and though I’ve written one for yaoi, I’m not very experienced. Please go easy on me! Also, I've really screwed Sakuno and Ryoma's characters here. So if you're not in the mood for a future timeline and a different Ryoma and Sakuno, I suggest you ignore this story.

Muse: Listening to Awake by Secondhand Serenade

All disclaimers apply.

Transition

The bright lights blinking around the room somehow nauseated me. The music was blaring full-blast and the DJ was talking in a language that seemed to be from another planet – and I realized that it went the same for the people surrounding me. I could smell the scent of cigarettes and beer around the place and it made me shudder. I looked around, trying to find a familiar face or, at least, somewhere to sit, but the place was so packed that I couldn’t. They were all dancing and laughing and flirting and I knew at that moment that I didn’t fit in.

I tried to push my way through the crowd unsuccessfully, and I ended up returning to the entrance. I decided to take a fresh breath out – even for just a second. The atmosphere inside the place was something I wasn’t used to. I took one long breath and I felt the cold night air fill my lungs. Pleasure rushed through me, and it felt like it all seemed far away…

As soon as I got my breath back, I climbed up the club’s entrance once more. Darkness once again engulfed me, and the fresh air was downed by the scents I left earlier.

But I didn’t care.

I came here to find him.

That’s because when he left, he asked me to wait. And I did. Ten years was a long time, but I didn’t forget – I couldn’t. I’d heard about him occasionally. My grandmother was in constant contact with his dad, and I could overhear random news about him – that he won tennis championships in an almost alarming rate, that he started a part-time job abroad, that he was going home to stay. When I found out about that, I was ecstatic. I searched for him almost obsessively with no avail. The Internet proved to be no help at all. He left no traces of himself once he came back to Japan and he seemed like a faraway myth. But a few weeks ago, Momoshiro-sempai came by our house to pay a visit to grandmother, and then, I found out about this place.

“Ryuzaki-san!”

The familiar warm voice sent me turning around, coming face-to-face with the exact person I was thinking about. A large smile loomed on Momoshiro-sempai’s face, and I looked up to him to absorb the positive energy that he was overflowing with. I needed it. I gulped and my hands instinctively sweat. I took a deep breath and tried to smile.

“Momo-sempai,” I said, nodding and smoothing down the skirt I was wearing. “Thank you for inviting me.” Though the words were true, I knew that I practically begged him to take me. I could feel a blush come halfway up my face but it stopped midway when he grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me closer to him and away from the crowd.

“Listen,” he whispered, cautiously checking over his shoulder. “He isn’t what he used to be, okay?”

I cocked my head. What did he mean?

His grin turned into a weak smile and he gripped my shoulder, as if warning me. “You’ll be surprised, Ryuzaki-san. I doubt if you’d recognize him. Either way, I hope you have fun.” He loosened his hold and patted me amiably. “But I gotta say. He’s in great shape.” He gave me a wink and, not even waiting for a reply, pulled me with him towards the other side of the club.

I felt myself take a sharp intake of breath as soon as my eyes caught sight of him. I stood rooted on the spot, staring at the familiar dark-green hair jutting out to random directions, the familiar smirk on that confident, pale face, and those large, cat-like eyes that seemed to have the ability to set me into a hypnotized state whenever I see them. And now, it kept its effect on me.

He was sitting on a red couch, his right arm casually slung over the back rest, and his left hand holding an open can of beer. His long leg was crossed over the other elegantly, and I could see that his clothing preference have changed since the last time we met. He wore a loose, white polo shirt with the first buttons open, giving me a subtle peek at his pale chest. A black choker was around his neck, contrasting completely with his white skin. He wore it all with a pair of simple jeans and black, leather shoes.

Is this what Momoshiro-sempai talked about? I could see how much he changed – physically. And I could also see how much he changed inside. The naivety that once existed in his expression was now gone. I tried to see it and find it behind that smirk, but I couldn’t. The person sitting before me was someone who went through a lot, and could only smile at people who haven’t yet.

His eyes, which were roaming around the room in amusement, lazily went over to me, and he studied me for a while, occasionally glancing at Momoshiro-sempai. The grip on my shoulder returned.

“You do remember Ryuzaki-san, don’t you, Echizen?” Momoshiro-sempai asked him, raising an eyebrow.

His eyes widened slightly with… perhaps, surprise? And his mouth opened into a small ‘o’. After a few seconds of muted surprise, he regained his composure and shook himself out of the shocked state.

“Oh.” He uncrossed his legs and stood up, straightening his shirt right after. He held out a stiff hand towards me, asking me to shake it. “How are you?” he asked me formally, as I took it. I could feel my skin burn at the contact.

“I’m fine,” I replied, to my relief, without stuttering. I took another breath before I smiled at him. “Are you having a good night?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he muttered as he sat back down. He looked questioningly at Momoshiro-sempai before he let out a sigh. “Well, do you want to sit down?” he offered, gesturing towards the seat in front of him. I nodded and took it, still staring at his now grown face. Momoshiro-sempai grinned at the two of us and gave a little wave.

“You two enjoy yourselves, m’kay? I’ll go over there and do some dancing.” And after taking a glare from him, sempai went over to the thickest part of the crowd and disappeared.

Sighing again, he looked back at me and stared. His eyes shone dangerously, and the smirk he wore before we saw him came back. He slung his arm over the backrest again and took a sip out of his can as he observed me from the other side of the table. I got hold of the handle of my bag and played with it nervously.

“I see you’ve cut your hair,” he commented off-handedly. “It looks better.”

I blushed, despite of myself. I reached unconsciously for the end of my hair and lowered my head. “Thank you,” I mumbled under my breath and went back to my bag. I wondered why he wasn’t saying any of the lines I expected him to say. “You look well, too,” I added, glancing up at him.

His smirk widened and he leaned in more comfortably into his seat. I could see everyone glancing in our direction and once he noticed my discomfort, he waved a dismissing hand and said, “Don’t mind it,” before he took another sip out of his can. “Anyway, why are you here?” he asked point-blank. “Did you come with Momo-sempai?”

“No,” I said. “I wanted to see you.” I tried my best to look straight into his eyes. Since he wasn’t asking me anything to make me say it, I decided to just tell him straight out. Ten years wasn’t a joke. It had been painfully long. The passing days slowly pricked me with needles. It hurt a little, day by day, until the pain built up in the end. I have wanted to tell him that since he left, and now that I got my chance, I won’t let it pass. Not anymore.

I didn’t mind his amused look. I leaned closer, my grip on my bag tightening. “Ryoma-kun, you told me to wait. And now I’m here.” I took a deep breath. “When I wrote to you the first time, I promised you that I’ll be welcoming you back with a smile. That when you come back, I’ll make you happy, that you’ll never have to go away again. And I would. I’d do anything.” I paused, waiting for a reaction. There was nothing. “And you said that you’ll come back soon. And now, you’re here.”

His smirk didn’t waver. He just looked at me and said nothing. I tried to read what his eyes were saying, but like before, I couldn’t ever figure out what he was thinking. I bit my lip before I spoke again.

“What do I do now, Ryoma-kun?” I whispered. “What do you want me to do?”

This time, his eyes averted from me. He focused himself of the thick mass of people – the same mass that Momoshiro-sempai disappeared into – as if he was lost in deep thought. I could see the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple, and, looking at his eyes, I saw that it was dull.

He looked back at me and I straightened up. “Yes?” I asked again, whispering. The dullness I glimpsed earlier was gone. His eyes bore into mine, with an intensity I could not explain. I felt like I wanted to sink right into the ground, yet I wanted to keep staring back.

“You said you’ll do anything, right?”

I nodded.

He shrugged and placed the empty can onto the table. With that, he stood up and dug his left hand into his pocket. He held out his right to me and for a split-second, the face of the old Ryoma-kun I once knew became present in his expression.

“Let’s go.”

--

The room was dark and cool.

He led me to sit on the couch and I fingered the velvety feel of the cloth underneath my fingers. He walked over to his stereo and turned it on. The sounds of jazz filled the place and I could feel myself sinking deeper onto his soft couch. He looked back at me with a grin on his face.

“This is my apartment room,” he told me. “I’m taking a shower first.”

I shrugged and took off my handbag. He said nothing and went inside his bathroom.

I stood up as soon as he left me alone. Walking towards the nearest shelf, I saw his large collection of music CDs and tennis books and magazines. A few large trophies stood on the top and I marveled at the familiar titles that I never imagined that he would win. A small smile crept up my face as I realized how all these made me feel so nostalgic. Nothing much had changed, I realized. He was still the old Ryoma-kun I knew. I looked over more of his memorabilia and collections and I was feeling more comfortable.

“That’s from America.”

I turned around in surprise and I blushed, completely embarrassed that he caught me in the middle of my roaming around. “I-I’m so sorry,” I stammered, brushing down the hair on my skin that stood up from the surprise. “I didn’t mean to pry…”

He walked over and touched the small teddy bear I had been looking at. A small smile was on his face as he flattened down its curly fur. “My first fan gave it to me after an exhibition match,” he said, as if he was recollecting old memories. “After that, a lot of people gave me more gifts. I threw most of them away. This one,” he paused, an amused twinkle in his eyes, “is really special.” He glanced at me and I could feel my blush deepening.

“I… I’m glad you liked it, Ryoma-kun.”

He laughed. It was a happy, twinkling laugh. He touched the top of my head as he began to dry his hair with the towel he was holding. He went over to the couch and gestured towards the bathroom. “Your turn.”

“Ah! Yes!” And I scrambled into the bathroom.

--

When I came out, I tugged the bathrobe closer to my skin. The air felt cooler, after I took the warm bath that Ryoma-kun prepared. I glanced at the sofa and found out that he was gone. The jazz music that was playing before I took a bath changed into something else – some kind of slow, soothing rock.

“Ryuzaki!” his voice called out. “In here!”

I walked tentatively into the place where the voice came from and a small gasp went out from me as I saw Ryoma-kun smirking from his bed. He was sitting up, with a can of Ponta in hand, while he was watching TV. I could hear the sounds of rackets hitting tennis balls as I approached him.

“What are you watching?” I asked, sitting next to him cautiously. I tried to not stare at him – his unruly hair, his pale skin, everything – and focused my eyes on the screen.

He went back to watching and said, “Tezuka-buchou.” He took a sip from the can. “He got even better, didn’t he?” With that, he grabbed the remote beside him and turned it off.

“Why?” I asked, surprised. “Don’t you want to watch it?”

He shrugged. “It’s a replay. I have a tape of that match.” He placed the can on top of the TV and looked at me, his eyes getting serious.

Silence filled the room.

I gulped nervously, looking around, trying to find something to talk about. “Where’s Karupin?” I blurted out, and I felt that my heart jumped out when I asked that. “I’m sorry. I just noticed that… he wasn’t around…”

“He’s gone,” he told me, sitting next to me again. “A few years ago.”

“Oh.”

To my surprise, I found him leaning closer towards me, his eyes shining. I was losing myself again, and I gripped the metal bars on the side of his bed, trying to get a hold onto myself. “W-What is it?” I whispered, my voice shaking.

“Are you ready?” His voice was deep. I realized that it changed, too. I could smell the faint scent of mint on his breath and it caught the air in my throat. Everything about Ryoma-kun – everything about him left me so breathless that I felt ashamed. I was weak. I was giving in.

“For what?” I croaked, though I knew what he was talking about. My heart was banging fiercely against my chest and I could swear that I was about to faint.

The intense look on his face didn’t leave as he leaned closer to me, and I felt his lips touch my neck. “For this,” he breathed out, and I shivered as his breath came in contact with my warm skin. He grabbed one of my hands gently and I could feel the small kisses he placed on my neck. “Are you ready?” he repeated huskily, and suddenly, we were so near. His kisses became gentle licks, and his tongue lazily grazed on my skin. His cold fingers traced my jaw line.

I didn’t know when it happened, but suddenly, my hands were on his back and his head. Touching him, being so close, what it feels like – I couldn’t stop. “Yes,” I whispered back, and as if taking that as a cue, he raised his head and crushed his lips onto my own. Soon, we were lying on his bed, with him on top of me. We were kissing feverishly, and we were pushing against each other on the mattress.

By then, the music was drowned out.

--

I bled.

I’ve read books and heard people telling me how it would hurt during the first time, but I was surprised. It didn’t hurt – all I was thinking about was the pleasure I felt and Ryoma-kun. Maybe it did, I must’ve not noticed. I’ve never imagined having this sort of bond with him. Never in my life. In my dreams, it had always been different – I was always scared, and I never knew that it would be like this. It surpassed it all.

I was saying his name over and over – trying to make sure that he was there, that I wasn’t at all dreaming any of this. And he would reply with a small grunt or a moan and I’d knew he was alive. I ran my hands over his back, his hair and I could feel him – so real, so human… and so very near.

We kissed. It wasn’t like anything I imagined before. We did it many times. I was feeling dizzy, but I didn’t care. Ryoma-kun was back. He was never going to leave.

I wanted him to say mine. I wanted to make sure I was doing it right. I wanted to make sure that he was thinking of me, too.

“I love you!” I screamed when I felt him push inside of me on final time. Tears fell from my eyes as I held him tighter. He was panting and I ran my hands on him, feeling the damp sweat. “I love you! I love you!” I kept repeating, not caring who heard, not caring how stupid it sounded. I’ve always wanted to tell him those words – to make him know!

He looked at my face and smiled. I placed my hands on his cheeks, glistening with sweat, and smiled back. “I love you, Ryoma-kun. So much.” I cried. I cried as he hugged me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t ask why. I was tired. I fell into a deep sleep.

--

“Yeah… I know.”

My eyes opened slightly as I heard Ryoma-kun’s voice. I didn’t get up; parts of me hurt so much. I closed my eyes again and tried to take in his voice.

“I know, it was wrong,” he said. “But that’s what she wanted, right? No, no, you don’t understand, sempai. She told me she waited – what else can I do?” He paused. It was a long pause. “Well, you shouldn’t have brought her to me. You knew it all. You shouldn’t have done it, sempai. You know that I don’t have any other way of handling these things.” Another pause. “I know. I told her I’m sorry.”

I closed my eyes tighter, willing myself to go to sleep, to pretend that I wasn’t hearing anything.

“Yes. Ryuzaki… is well.” I could feel him moving on the bed. It creaked. “Yes, yes, I’ll tell her. Good bye.” The sound of a phone clicking was heard, and then, just then, after I felt Ryoma-kun lying back on the space next to me did I fall back into sleep.

--

That morning, when I woke up, Ryoma-kun was gone.

I stood up, trying to take in every little detail of the room. I found out that he left me a note on the nightstand.

Ryuzaki, it said. Left for work. Your clothes are dried. I left my number and the address. Thank you. –R.Echizen. I fingered the deep crosses on ‘for last night’. Ryoma-kun tried to erase it but he couldn’t.

I cried.

--

I took a deep breath as I went out of the apartment. The note was in my pocket and I was holding it tightly. I couldn't look back.

Ryoma-kun came home. That much was true. But he left with me the old Ryoma-kun. That part of him stayed with me – in my memories. And when he came back, he was someone else. He would never come back to me fully. The Ryoma-kun I knew was gone.

I took a deep breath as I took out the note he left for me. It was the last thing that held me on to him, the last thing I could use to stop him from leaving me again. I took it out and gave it one last look before tearing it apart and throwing it with the wind. I was never going to call or look for him again. I have let him go.

As the morning sun shone on me, I felt light. I skipped lightly. The pain of ten years seemed to have washed away.

I loved Ryoma-kun. I loved him a lot. And I promised him that I would do anything to make him happy.

And at this exact moment, I did.

Fin.

This story is for Billy. For everything she did for me (including lots of beta's and ranting sessions). And also, the last lines came from her. Thanks, dude.

I never thought I'd write these kind of stuff for TeniPuri. I usually do these dark things for shonen-ai, particularly in Death Note, so I'm not sure how it turned out. By the way, thanks for all those reviews!

Well, that was it. Didn’t beta or anything, so please go easy on the mistakes (and if it’s not much trouble, please point them out for reference when I resubmit a rebeta’d one). I hope to hear from you! By the way, regarding The Gigolo, I'll do my best to update as soon as I can. The pressure on the entrance exams really looms in since the test is on August. Gomen!

–neko11lover