A Short Eternity.

Summary: "Yukio, I love you." The fingers in Kise's slowly tightened. "Baka. You should have told me sooner." He smiled softly behind the mask, his eyebrows sunk lower –almost regretfully. "I love you too." Kise's gaze hovered over the bed stricken man, whom he loved. A small, heartening smile playing on his lips. "But you told me too late." ONESHOT-DEATHFIC! REVIEW!

Rating: K+ (For kissing and yaoi themes)

The rain rolled softly off the windows. The tiny room was cold, enough to cause goose bumps to push their way up through flesh like needles. It clashed with the hot air outside, fogging the windows –like a thin layer of frost. Nothing was said, the room eerily silent. The only noise was a soft, feeble beeping from the many machines that clung to the wall and along the bed side, and the soft rattling of an old air conditioner in the window. Listening closely Kise could hear the rain on the roof and Yukio's weak breaths behind the respirator mask that hung from his face like a muzzle.

What a cold room to die in.

The walls and bed were gray, no color in a colorless world. Yukio was pale, seemingly glowing against the bed covers, a ghost. He was still, too weak to move, moist eyes partially open. Mouth in a frozen part, desperate for every breath.

There were no flowers –the doctor had forbade it, just an empty room and two young men. One dying. The other healthy. One here. The other elsewhere. It was a simple scenario –much too simple. Kise looked up at his friend, who was staring at the water stained ceiling. He had pulled a chair close to the side of the hospital bed, so that his knees were pressed into the side painfully, yet every second –despite the pain, he would try to tug it closer. Soon his legs went numb.

Kise watched Yukio's dull eyes, moving never, staring off into space. His heart fluttered nervously and his eyes floated down to his thin fingers as they snaked over the sheets and wove into Yukio's like wicker, folding like a puzzle against the sick man's limp hand. He clamped it tightly, drawing the man's hand to his chest and clutching it securely as if he'd never let go. Yukio turned his head feebly to look at his blonde friend, his lips –hidden by the mask, turning up into a gentle, reassuring smile.

"I'm still here." It was muffled through the muzzle, his already soft voice almost inaudible. Kise leaned forward to hear, looking almost straight down into the face of his friend, he brushed back the messy, black hair lovingly, gently running his fingernails along the scalp. They stayed like that for a while. Yukio's eyes closed and Kise smoothing his hair. The beeping counted away the minutes.

"Yukio?" they spoke only in hushed whispers, as if not to disrupt the silent room. The clock at the bedside read half past midnight.

"Hmm?" the smoothing stopped and the ill man struggled to open his eyes, he looked at Kise who had bowed his head so lowly that his face was buried into the mattress by his side. His voice was muffled

"C-can I tell you something?" the room grew silent, and Kise lifted his head, his eyes meeting the dull almost lifeless eyes of his best friend. He wouldn't live much longer.

"Hmm." It was a content hum, Yukio was finding it difficult to gather the strength to make full sentences, he gently squeezed the fingers still woven into his own. Kise clutched back, his fingers were trembling.

"I…" the air conditioner stopped, throwing the room into a deafening silence, the room seemed to buzz from the sudden stillness. Yukio blinked slowly and Kise drew his gaze away. "Yukio, I love you."

Beep, beep, beep. The fingers in Kise's slowly tightened.

"Baka. You should have told me sooner." Yukio said breathlessly weak, eyes half closed. He smiled softly behind the mask, his eyebrows sunk lower –almost regretfully. "I love you too." Kise's gaze hovered over the bed stricken man, whom he loved. A small, heartening smile playing on his lips.

The agony of overwhelming despair and hopelessness lingering in the men's eyes. "But you told me too late."

That realization –tears leaked down Kise's face. His features contorted into a hideous expression of anguish, his sobs silent, his voice desperate.

"If only I had told you sooner, we could have been happy! With so many memories-"

"-Baka…" a soft, whispering voice interrupted, the fingers unwove and buried into Kise's shirt collar bringing the blonde's head down until their foreheads touched. Yukio's sweat damp brow –even in the cold of the room, stuck to him. He pressed their faces together until the tears from Kise's face were wet on his own as well. "I have p-plenty of happy memories with y-you."

"Yukio, Yukio…my Yukio." Kise mumbled, planting soft kisses on his love's cheeks and neck. Their voices were still whispers, talking only to each other and not to the world. Hanging onto each other's words, knowing that in a short while Yukio would hear no more, nor speak them.

Kise wrapped his arms around him and drew himself up onto the bed, curling around Yukio –until the smaller man was nestled in his love's lap. Pressing his cheek into the man's collar bone, Yukio weakly snuggled in, huddled in between the man's legs pulling his own up to his chest, his torso's side in the other man's upper body. Kise's arms pulled Yukio tight against him, arm's slightly trembling against the crisp hospital gown and cold, dewy flesh.

Kise dried his tears in the soft hair of his beloved, nestling his cheek into the black feathery tresses. He had dreamed of holding Yukio like this –for it seemed forever. He breathed, taking in everything while he could. The smell of weeks of hospitalization, laced with earthy tones of pine and tea. Soft like water.

Another tear fell, only to be swallowed up in the black abyss. He pulled his arms tighter around the frail man.

"T…" Yukio tried to speak, but winded easily "T-to tight, K-Kise." Kise slowly relaxed his hold. They sat for moments upon moments, neither daring to move, barley daring to breathe. As if Yukio were made of glass, and Kise was afraid to break him. His golden eyes wavered.

"Don't ever leave me. Not now…please, not ever." He sounded so desperate, Yukio who was too tired to cry could only press his lips together in a grim line and nod numbly. A lie that seemed not to convince either. But in fact, make the blonde more fraught. "Yukio, Yukio promise. Promise me." Kise squeezed his eyes shut, so tightly that black dots swam across his vision, suddenly he felt a light tap on his cheek –he opened his eyes to see Yukio's fist pressed meagerly into the flesh.

"Don't c-cry. I'll h-hit you." The weak punch fell away limply only to be caught in the palm and held to the lips of Kise, who kissed the knuckles gingerly, a kiss for each one. It was getting hard for Yukio to stay away, each blink was growing longer, each breath shorter. Kise noticed, and witch a trembling heart struggled to accept the fact.

His dear, Yukio. Was almost gone.

As Yukio's hair clung to his dew tacky brow –like wet sand to seashells, Kise couldn't resist. He began to plant small, delicate kisses along his forehead. Until he nuzzled back into that dusky, dark hair.

The heart monitor began to slow, as Yukio relished in the love and tranquility the blonde offered.

Yukio began to fade.


The dazing silence spanned, as their fingers intertwined again. The waning man –placing a limp hand on his love's strongly beating heart, cried. Tears burning trails down pale cheeks.

He did not want to die, and the man embracing him wanted to hold him until the end of eternity, he did not want his dearest's heart to ever stop. Either of them. Eternity in that moment felt like never and forever all at once. Though both knew their eternity was very short.

Yukio felt Kise's hot breaths on his skin, they were short, scared, erratic. He was crying as well. Muttering apologizes and pleads under his breath. Rambling on –a prayer.

The monitor gave a shudder of irregular beats, as Yukio's heart protested against the strain. It became so unbearably slow that it pained him. Each heart beat was a struggle. His vision swam, darkened and seemed to weigh upon his brain. And in that moment, Yukio Kasamatsu felt the sensation of death.

"…K-Kise…" the blonde looked up from his pillow atop the older, and looked down upon Yukio.


"…Kise?..." the cradled man trembled against his arm's, and the younger's heart raced in terror, grasping his fading love's face in his hands he turned his head to gaze into his eyes. They were dull, dead, unseeing. The rebellious, free twinkle that Kise loved was gone. Yukio stared at his face, eyes floating over the blonde's features as if trying to remember everything. "Can y-you take off the m-mask?"

The fated man's voice was warm, yet as if he were freezing, slurring his words, chattering his teeth. Kise tried to warm him up. Wrapping his arms around him, willing his heat into his beloved.

With shaking fingers he pulled the mask over Yukio's head, and tossed it aside on the bed. Knowing very well the mask would not be needed soon.

With his remaining strength Yukio buried his fingers into the front of Kise's shirt and pulled himself up to place a soft, loving kiss on the man's lips.

Yukio's lips were chapped, yet very sweet. And Kise already missed that feeling he had only gotten to experience once. His fingers found Yukio's cheek and he caressed away the tear tracks. Letting the man's fear run down his fingers. "I-I'm scared." The dying man muttered –verging on inaudibly. Kise who had been listening intensely to every fragile breath, heard.

"Me too."

Finally, Yukio's eyelids slid shut –too heavy to keep open. He immediately missed Kise's face, he struggled desperately to reopen his eyes, but fate was not so kind.

"It w-was worth it, K-Kise." He said as they drew apart from the frantic kisses, still intertwined in each other's limbs like a knit.

It was so bright, gleaming like a fire, licking at the caverns of the older man's subconscious. A memory of his love –and Yukio Kasamatsu saw heaven. And then nothing at all.

"What was, love?" the elder said nothing. He was limp –as if he had fallen asleep in Kise's arms. "Yukio?" the rain had stopped, and the street outside was glowing with fresh rain and streetlights, moths fluttered around the dimly lit globes like flower petals in the wind. "…Yukio?" the monitor had fallen flat.

The sound of death – a single tone, which was quiet yet luridly haunting and strident. Kise slowly pulled Yukio away from him and repositioned so that he was holding him at and arms distance, his eyes frantically scanned the slack, yet peaceful face. He shook him lightly as if to awaken him. "Yukio...wake up…." He whispered, the night was the only reply. The night and the flat line.

He shook him harder "YUKIO…DAMN IT, WAKE UP!" Yukio flopped lifelessly against the younger man's desperate pleads, his head lolling back. "WAKE UP, PLEASE!" The still of the night was shattered by his screeching sobs and begging. "Yukio, come back…Yukio…" his cries died away as he pressed his lips against the lifeless, pale flesh of his love. Placing unrelenting, frantic stamps of affections into his hair, skin, cheeks, brow and lips –as if it were a fairy tale, as if it would bring him back to life.

The man willed life back into his love, but Yukio Kasamatsu was long gone. Mouth gaping in a regretful, yet serene smile. The imprints of the respirator mask like red ink lines around his face –slowing turning purple as they faded.

Kise hugged the body close to him, painful tears of misery and agony soaking his beloved whom he held tight. "Yukio…come back…I love you." There was supposed to be eternity, love was supposed to be eternal. "…I love you..."

Oh, how bitterly short eternity can be.

I cried a little writing this :'(

His dear, Yukio. Was almost gone.

Was the line that made me tear up : )

This is just a one shot. I didn't explain Yukio's illness, or really go into much detail about the circumstances. I'm sure the rest of the team would be there is this truly happened and the room would be overflowing with sentiments. That's why I made it past midnight…even though there are no visitors allowed. I'm implying that Kise snuck in to see him.

Sorry if it's at all confusing. It was just meant to be a short, emotional piece.

I hope you enjoyed!

Did I make you cry? ;) because I tried.

Your (reviewloving) writer,