Last Dance
By Anahita ()

I'm so glad you came
I'm so glad you remembered
To see how we're ending
Our last dance together

From Last Dance
- The Cure

He wasn't sure what force exactly prompted it, but during one restless evening, the writer found himself walking through an old neighborhood where he used to call his home. As he walked along the edge of the quiet, deserted street, illuminated only with the pale yellow glow of streetlamps, he noticed how so little had changed in the years since he had lived there. Houses and shops looked exactly the same, and most likely were inhabited by the same families and patrons. That was the way of the world after all. Every living thing strived for order, for familiarity. He casually wondered if that was one of the reasons why he found himself strolling down that particular street on that particular evening.

The air was damp with rain, and his muscles began to ache from it. He immediately credited it to the fact that he was getting old, before laughing at the absurdity of that statement. Thirty-two wasn't old, he reminded himself yet again. People his age were just beginning their lives, graduating from school, getting married, starting families. He was the exception, rather than the norm for his generation. That was the way it had always been for most of his adult life, after all.

A gust of cold air blew past him, prompting him to pull his trench coat tightly around his body to shield him from the unusually frigid late-spring night. The scent of freshly dug earth was strong in that area, which caught his attention. Turning his head, he found himself standing in front of a construction area. Piles of unearthed soil surrounding a metal skeleton of a high rise that was in the early stages of development. Strange, he thought, wondering what landmark that new building would replace. That thought, and the fact that he was beginning to feel a sense of deja vu all of a sudden, was a bit unnerving. Prompted by his curiosity nagging at him, his mind began to shuffle through old memories, long forgotten, in hopes of putting a name to that place, a date to that night. Something to make sense of the fact that he now stood there and wondered, knowing that this area was important to him in some way, but unable to figure out why.

The dark outline of a man standing 20 feet away, staring at the very same construction site, was the catalyst needed to unearth those buried memories. Eiri's heart rate began to quicken. He took several steps forward, unable and unwilling to believe what his mind interpreted his eyes of seeing. When the other man heard footsteps approaching, he turned his head slowly, as if expecting somebody to show up, yet at the same time, somewhat hesitant to face them. Once their eyes made contact, he smiled.

Nine years had passed since Eiri had last seen those incomparable violet eyes, not quite as wide and child-like as he remembered, and that smile, sadder now. The man's features all seemed a bit foreign to him. He was older now; the gangly, adolescent frame that Eiri remembered had filled out somewhat. He was a little taller. The sunny, innocent countenance of the boy he once knew was gone. Yet underneath it all, in those blue eyes there was warmth that was very familiar to him.

"Shuichi." He whispered.

The security at that site was surprisingly lax, for they were able to find an opening in the metal fence that separated the construction area from the street and slipped in, finding a pile of concrete blocks that worked well as a makeshift bench.

"I can't believe they tore this place down." Eiri remarked, referring to the previous occupant of that patch of land, a quiet little park, and the spot where they first met 10 years ago?

That was it.

A scrawny teenaged kid with a most ridiculous hairstyle, a gust of wind that carried that slip of paper to his feet The reason why both of them were drawn to that location on that particular night suddenly became very clear to him, for that night occurred exactly 10 years ago.

"I wonder what we'll be seeing 10 years from now, when we meet to celebrate our twentieth anniversary?" Shuichi joked, with a weak laugh. His voice was deeper now. Eiri barely heard that quip and didn't see fit to respond, he was too busy regarding Shuichi from the corner of his eye. He was amazed at how very different he was than the boy he remembered. "I really didn't expect to see you here." Shuichi continued. He trailed off, expecting an answer, yet not really asking a question.

Eiri thought for a moment, before using the first explanation that entered his mind. "I was feeling a little homesick."

Shuichi laughed. "Yeah right "

Eiri wanted to disagree, but really didn't want to spoil the mood by arguing with him. He didn't want to waste the precious few moments they had together.

They spent a few minutes just sharing each other's silent company. Both men felt incredibly uncomfortable. Eiri bit his lip while idly looking to the side, trying to recall where exactly that path used to be, that path where he first set eyes on Shuichi for the first time. Inside, he loathed himself for his hesitation. He had waited for that moment for nine years; he had rehearsed everything he wanted to say for nine years.

He couldn't quite form the thoughts and words to follow through. Some things never changed.

"You look good." Eiri said finally, breaking the dreadful spell of silence that loomed heavy over the both of them, half hoping that a little mundane conversation would give him the courage to say all that he ever wanted to share with Shuichi.

"So do you." Shuichi answered. "You haven't changed at all." He added and then paused before adding, "I missed you."

Eiri said nothing; his only response was to clench his teeth. How could Shuichi miss him, when he was the one who had left in the first place? He thought; the bitterness that he felt at that confession took him by surprise. The writer felt a weak ache in his gut. His head was feeling light, and he had to use every ounce of energy he had to keep from shaking. Not once did he allow himself to become emotional over Shuichi after the boy quietly left him so many years ago. Yet, sitting there, only inches away from the man that Shuichi had become, it was becoming a very trying task to keep those emotions in check.

When Eiri did not response, Shuichi felt stung, although he really could not blame him. "You look like you have something to ask " Shuichi mentioned casually, his attention focused on an errant thread that had become unraveled on one of the sleeves of his shirt, rather than his blond companion that was seated so close "What is it?"

"Why did you leave?" Eiri asked, pleasantly surprised at how unemotional his voice sounded.

"We weren't going anywhere." Shuichi answered articulately and without hesitation, as if he himself had rehearsed that response over and over. "I was making you miserable, we both know that."

Eiri wanted to disagree. He wanted to tell Shuichi that he was wrong, that he cherished the short time that they had spent together far more than he'd ever know. There were many words that he could use to describe his relationship with Shuichi. Miserable was not one of them. "There isn't anything wrong with being miserable." He snorted.

Shuichi laughed. "Just like I thought. You really haven't changed at all." He said.

Several more minutes of uncomfortable silence passed between the two, until Eiri finally spoke. "Well?"

"What is it?"

"You answered my question. Isn't it time for you to ask what you have always wanted to ask me?"

A moment of hesitation, as if Shuichi wasn't expecting that question to be offered, before he responded. "During that time together. Was there ever a time when you could honestly say that I made you happy?" He finally asked.

It was a simple question, and very typical of Shuichi. He always aimed to please people before himself. He was just so damn caring and selfless. It was one of his traits that infuriated the writer.

Eiri sighed. He didn't know how to answer it. How the hell could someone who had eschewed all forms of happiness answer such a thing? Relatively speaking, he was never really that unhappy when Shuichi was with him. Happiness was terribly overrated. It was much more preferable to live a life revolving around numb, gray apathy. That way, it was impossible to get hurt when those sources of joy and happiness disappeared, as they inevitably always did.

"I miss a lot of what I had back then." Eiri skirted the issue. "I enjoyed your company. Your presence inspired me at times, infuriated me at others, yet I learned to accept you in my life. I don't regret the time I spent with you."

Shuichi smiled. "You answered everything other than the question I asked you." He said.

Eiri didn't disagree, yet said nothing. Shuichi was absolutely correct.

"You haven't changed at all "

Even if time stood still for the writer, the singer, however, was a completely different person. So different, yet so very familiar, as if the ghost of that boy that he knew so many years ago still lived on in the man that he had become. Yet just like the past, Shuichi had such a profound effect on him. So much so that Eiri turned his head to avoid Shuichi, to avoid his once-lover seeing how weak and vulnerable he was when they were together. He was afraid of losing his fleeting grasp on his emotions. He couldn't breathe.

And suddenly, Eiri lost control. The proximity of the other man, his mere presence, the soft sounds of his rhythmic breathing was his undoing. Without thinking of it, he turned his head to look directly at his companion and brought up one hand to caress Shuichi's face. God that skin was so smooth Violet eyes widened slightly, and a lovely red blush began to spread across the younger man's cheeks Before thinking better of the idea, Eiri leaned forward, lowering his head to claim Shuichi's lips in a kiss.

He closed his eyes, and he was twenty-two again, sitting on a park bench with his boyfriend straddling his lap, their mouths locked together. Such a perfect setting for such a perfect kiss. The dim glow of the streetlamps, the full moon smiling down upon them, the warm summer breeze gently fanning them It was an absolutely perfect moment. They were oblivious to everything around them as their tongues moved together in a slow, erotic dance. It was late, so they were spared from the typical jeers or giggles from those passersby who weren't accustomed to seeing two men in such an intimate embrace out in public like that. The pink-haired teenager moaned into the kiss. Encouraged, Eiri reached up to cradle the back of his lover's head with one hand, loving the sensation of his hair, like cool strands of fine silk between his fingers. He loved hearing his lover moan like that, he loved feeling that body in his arms, hot, aroused, one hand holding onto the back of his shirt with a clenched fist, before breaking away completely dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

That mouth, that tongue was the same, as it always tasted. It was as if nothing had changed all those years. The kiss was the same, as if time had turned back for them. Eiri half expected to open his eyes and see himself looking into the hazy, unfocused eyes of his mate. Hair dyed bright pink and heavy with the fragrance of strawberry-scented shampoo as well as a slight floral fragrance of the styling products he liked to use on it.

The younger man broke away several moments' later, face flushed and panting for breath. Eiri opened his eyes and was a bit startled to find a stranger sitting next to him. Shuichi no longer dyed his hair, preferring to wear it as its natural shade of brown. The scent of strawberries and flowers was gone. But the eyes were the same. He studied those eyes briefly and wondered if the boy that he once was, still lived behind those eyes.

Shuichi looked back. They looked at each other while regaining their senses, studying each other's response. Shuichi was the first to react. The look of startled, unfocused passion quickly subsided into a sad, knowing smile. "You always used to kiss me like that whenever you were drunk, or wanted to get me to stop talking." He recalled nostalgically, cupping Eiri's face with his hand, and running his index finger across the cheek to catch a lone tear that managed to escape from the emotionally distant writer's eye. "You don't appear to be drunk now " He whispered, wishing and hoping for a reaction. He looked into those cold eyes that had only softened slightly in the past 10 years; eyes that never failed to stare at him so powerfully that, even on that night, had he not been seated, that glare would have brought him to his knees. Those eyes were confused. He knew, he could tell that they desperately wanted to say so much, but if only their owner would let himself be human just once 'Don't fight this ' Shuichi thought to himself, silently pleading with the writer to open up. He wanted nothing more than to believe that they were both drawn to that area because of something more than just sheer coincidence.

Abruptly, Eiri pulled away, hating himself for that tear, that moment for showing a hideous weakness. He batted that hand away. Shuichi looked as if he were slapped. Even now. Even after all those years. This was how he reacted, avoiding him, pushing him away forcefully rather than admit that he was human, that hot blood ran through that icy heart of his.

Shuichi smiled sadly, painfully realizing that it was an exercise in futility. He should have learned his lesson years earlier, than to think that Eiri could change, that he could open his heart and soul to him. He was nothing but the same foolish 18 year old that had his heart broken years earlier, and he was a heartbeat away from making the same mistake again.

"Well, it's getting late. I should be getting back." Shuichi said as he stood up from his makeshift bench. "It was nice seeing you again, Yuki." He added, looking down at the miserable creature, looking so small and weak, hunched over with his head turned to the side, refusing to make any contact with his ex-lover. Shuichi frowned, and then turned on his heel and walked away.

Eiri's downcast eyes saw nothing other than muddy footprints. A perfect ending to his next novel, he thought idly. It had been a while since he wrote a tragic ending. He felt conflicted. Despite the fact that he had hundreds of, thousands of, millions of words he wanted to say to the man walking away, combined with the knowledge of the fact that this was most likely the last time they would ever cross paths again, he felt oddly detached.

It was probably better that way. He reasoned with himself a moment later as he stood up and rearranged his trench coat. He took one last look at what used to be a neighborhood park, one of the few witnesses to the love he shared with Shuichi, now dead. A spot of beauty and tranquility destroyed to make way for a sterile, hideous slab of concrete.

Paying no heed to the ache in his heart, Eiri quietly made his way back to his car.

I was listening to the Cure one day, and this story just came to me. Let me know what you think. ^_^. It was meant to be a one shot (life isn't always sunshine and roses), and it really tore apart the Yuki x Shuichi fangirl in me to write this ;_;. However, I am keeping my options open as to whether I'll continue this.