100 themes   von K-Cee
================================================================================
                           Kapitel 1: disease (RxR)
                           ------------------------


A cough, a sniff, shaky hands curling around a mug of tea, pouring some honey
into the hot liquid. Once one of his hands was freed from its former task,
Takanori brought it up to pull the thick scarf closer around his aching throat,
snuggled up into his fluffy bathrobe.
He felt miserable. He had felt miserable for the last four days, and, slowly, he
was giving up hope to get rid of this damn flu ever. He felt cold and trapped
inside his flat and to make things worse, a snowstorm was raging outside. He
hated snow. And he hated storms. And he hated how weak he felt, and how hot his
forehead felt under his cold fingertips, and how shaky he was on his feet, and
how the honeyed green tea didn’t taste like honeyed green tea at all because
he couldn’t taste anything right now.
A cough.
He felt cold and alone and he knew he was overreacting on a simple flu he’d
catch almost every winter.
A sniff.
He padded over into the living room and huddled himself up on the couch, trying
to forget the cruel world and raging snowstorms and that he was all alone in the
middle of the night.

Trying a simple touch to his phone, he considered calling someone. Or rather
someone.
Sure, he could have just called him in the middle of the night, crying and
fragile, but he wouldn’t. No, he wouldn’t… would he.
He jumped up – and regretted doing so immediately because his legs were almost
giving up on him underneath his minor weight, so he needed to catch himself with
a hand curling around the edge of the sofa to keep stable. Now, he walked over
to the bathroom. Yes, a hot bath would make him feel better. Make him forget
things. Like diseases, and snowstorms, and solitude, and the person he’d had
in mind all day.
He was busy right now, he knew that. He was busy having studies and everything.
Too busy to come and fix him up, like he always did. Ever since he’d entered
College, he would be a little too busy to do this and that with his best friend.
And it hurt more than the flu or the headache.
Takanori hated to feel that way about him. He was his best friend, God damn it,
not his mother. He wasn’t obliged to come here and curl him into a towel once
he had finished bathing, and he wasn’t obliged to cook dinner for him because
he felt like starving and was sick and tired after another half-a-night without
sleep. And of course he wasn’t obliged to tell him everything was going to be
okay because, hell, it would, and he knew that, and he hated overreacting like
this, and he hated how he got all emotional now about that dickhead.

Hitting up the faucet and closing the drain he watched the steaming water whirl
into the white tub, slowly rising and soon starting to form bubbles as he put in
his favourite supplement. His hands and feet were still cold as he started to
undress, fumbling with the knot on his robe for a moment longer than he’d
usually needed and it was enough to agitate him a little more. His shirt hit the
floor soon after and as he slipped out of his pyjama pants he almost got stuck
and stumbled over his own two feet. Cursing, he stepped out of his shorts as
well and toed off his fluffy socks, now fully revealed to the cool air in the
room. Maybe he should have turned on the heating but he didn’t mind the
shudder running down his back. The air was slowly heating up by the hot steam
curling up from the halfway filled bath tub, so he took a second to step over to
the sink and give himself an inspecting look in the mirror.
His reflection looked ugly like this, all pale and with puffed eyes because he
couldn’t breathe properly and therefore didn’t sleep all that much either.
He knew he needed rest but how should one sleep, if they had the feeling to
asphyxiate under the thick sheen of mucus in the back of their throat..?
He rubbed his eyes and sighed.
Once the tub was filled to his liking, he turned off the water and stepped into
the warm heaven inside the porcelain bowl, lying down and immediately feeling
the relaxation spreading in his muscles as they got warmed up. The best thing
about bathing was that once the water surrounded you, it felt like a mother’s
hug. Or that of a lover. Which he didn’t have.
Something was going wrong in his life, wasn’t it.
He closed his eyes and tried to relax…

He woke up to the sound of heavy boots on the tiled floor. A light chuckle
reached his ears and a hand caressed through his wet hair. “How long are you
already in there, dear?”, he heard that smooth baritone and slowly slipped his
eyes open, seeing that face he’d longed to see for days now, and everything
seemed so unreal. Strong hands slipped underneath his arms to support him in
getting onto his feet and only now he realized how cold the water must have
turned. He was shaking all over again, feeling numb to the core, and he also
felt dizzy.
A big, fluffy towel was around him a second after, strong arms securing its hold
and caressing his back to warm it while his nose was nuzzled into the elder’s
shoulder. “Why are you here, Aki?”, he asked and pushed his lips further
into the soft skin around his collarbone. “Since you didn’t call me like you
promised, I came to check on you.”
Takanori tried a weak nod and let the other help him out of the tub and into the
bedroom where he sat down on the bed immediately. Pulling the blanket up to the
other’s waist, Akira came to sit behind the smaller blonde and started drying
his hair with a towel, his free arm curling around the slim waist to pull the
cold body closer to the warm own. “You’re quite a handful, you know.”, he
chuckled and finished his task, putting the towel aside.
“I’m sorry…”
“Hey, I brought take out with me! You want some?”
And that moment, Takanori just stared at his best friend and felt the tingle in
his stomach.
He didn’t feel sick anymore, and he didn’t feel cold and lonely anymore.

A smile crossed his lips as he nodded and watched how his very personal remedy
got up to get the food for him.



                           Kapitel 2: bathroom (AxU)
                           -------------------------


Really, six in the morning wasn’t exactly Yuu’s time of the day. Not that he
disliked getting up early in the morning or that he didn’t enjoy the early
birds singing in the trees on that warm day of spring. It was just for the fact
that he actually had to leave the bed and get prepared for work. He’d rather
stay there with him all day but well… sleeping wouldn’t get the bills paid.
Rubbing the back of his hand over his nose while lazily brushing his teeth, he
could still smell the faint scent of his lover’s perfume. He found he liked
that smell.
Working or even leaving this place right now seemed like such a bother he
didn’t want to try and figure what he’d feel like once he got back home in
the evening, completely beat and dead tired.
He rather felt like making pancakes and tea for breakfast and have that in bed,
reading the newspapers, taking another nap. But no, this wasn’t how things
would go.
Having rinsed his mouth and dried his face with a fluffy towel, he sighed and
drew a hand through his hair. A yawn was suppressed soon after and he was about
to step back from the sink to get dressed, as long, slender arms curled around
his torso and pulled him backwards to a taller one, a face nuzzling the dent
between his neck and shoulder.
“You make a face like it rained all week.” Words, all mumble and whisper,
hoarse, and so drop dead gorgeous he could have just turned around and kiss the
living soul out of that man.
“It’s half past six. What do you expect me to say, ‘hip hip hooray’?”
Both chuckled and fingers circled along the skin of his hipbones. Yuu was slowly
getting sleepy, the longer the embrace lasted and the warmer his back got
through it.
“Something along those lines. It’s Sunday, Captain Smartpants, so get back
to bed already.”
And with that and a smack to his flipside, he was left alone again.
He decided, he should do something against the taste of toothpaste in his mouth.
Didn’t he just think about kissing that man anyway..?



                            Kapitel 3: sunset (RxR)
                            -----------------------


A sunset is always beautiful.
Even here, at this stinky, rotten fishpot of a harbour, where the industrial
smog polluted the air, where the rattling and hissing of the huge factories
could be heard, a sunset was still beautiful.
Rubbing his palms against one another to get the cold out of them, Takanori
stared out onto the silver waves of the ocean. The sky was a pastel mix of
yellows and oranges and pinks through a crack in between the thick black lines
of smoke and dirt.
He didn't mind, though.
This place was his home, always had been since he could think of it, and even if
for some it seemed like the ugliest place in the world, he was still bound to
this place, bound to these people who worked as substitutes for a family he did
not have, and love was what made him rather not be someplace else.
A thick, woolen scarf found its way around his neck and two strong arms
encircled him from behind, pulling him back against a taller figure. Still, his
eyes laid on the sky's painting before they briefly fluttered shut as soft lips
caressed his temple.
“What'cha dreamin' of, eh?“ were the words directed at him through thick,
rough workers' dialect.
“I wonder what's behind the smoke.”, he answered and this time kept his eyes
closed.
“Wanna find out?”
The taller male behind him shifted a little on his boot-clad feet, soiled hand
pulling closer around the equally soiled jacket the other was sporting. Work
would start soon, the night being their time for fishing out on the rough waves
but, like so often during these cold winter days, Takanori was more than willing
to find a way to skip work.
Thus, he turned around in the other's gentle hold and put his arms around that
stout neck and pecked at his lover's lips.
“I'd love to.”, he murmured, face now nuzzled in the crook of the other's
neck.
“If we leave now, we'll make it before nightfall.”
Takanori knew what this meant.
If they left now, they would not come back. But with the faithful presence next
to him, he was not afraid of what awaited them behind that smog. 
If what waited for them was a threat or a promise he did not know.
Facing the sunset again, he grabbed the tall hand of his lover, squeezing it.

“Let's go.”



                            Kapitel 4: bleach (RxU)
                            -----------------------


“One of those days, I'm so gonna kill you.”
Akira stood in the bathroom, facing the mirror above the sink and grabbing his
still wet, orange hair.
“It's fucking orange, Kou! How am I supposed to go out like this?!”
“Listen, I -”
“Orange, Kou! Orange!”, he rambled on and threw random cusses into the air
that smelled of a weird mixture of shampoo and hair bleach.
“Don't hyperventilate just because of a hair color, Aki. I'll go buy a second
package of bleach.”
“Orange is not a hair color but a fucking accident!”

To his dismay, all he heard was a short snicker and then the sound of the front
door falling shut. Great.
If he would not get his hair to become blonde today, his date with the hot chick
from upper class would be screwed and it was all his best friend's fault for
convincing him of his qualities as a hairstylist. He definitely would not leave
this flat before his hair would be either blonde or black again because he
didn't need the people from school to pick on him – again.
Needless to say that his pink hair a year ago had been Kouyou's idea, too...
Putting the towel around his neck, he strayed to the kitchen for a cigarette.
The time it took for his roommate to come back felt like an eternity and the
ashtray in front of him was already packed with cigarette stubs by the time the
lock clicked and the door swung open.

“I'm back to save you!”, he heard that snicker again and steps approaching
the kitchen.
“Get it on with the bleach already.”, he muttered but followed his friend to
the bathroom anyway
One of those days, he sure was going to kill Kouyou but right now, as he could
already see the first tips of blonde hair as he washed out the second load of
hair bleach, he was quite happy to have him as well. If not for the fact that he
did not judge him for times like this, when he'd be mad and stomping around like
a little dragon, then at least for that he did not have to leave the house like
this because Kouyou went to the konbini for him.
“See, I told you it would suit you.”, the other huffed as Akira came out of
the bathroom, showered and with dry and styled hair.
And he smirked and nodded, leaving for his bedroom to dress up, and his smile
grew even wider as he heard the bathroom door falling shut.

Kouyou was so going to kill him once he found out that he'd slipped some
leftover bleach into his bottle of shampoo...



                           Kapitel 5: criminal (RxR)
                           -------------------------


My fingernails slowly clawed into that fair neck, drawing red lines down his
shoulders and upper arms as his hard sex pushed deep into me with the first,
ardent thrust. A throaty groan slipped past his lips once he was fully sheathed
within me. His ribcage was heaving with deep breaths and he looked at me, eyes
filled with the desire to do unspeakable things to me.
My hands were wandering again, over his chest, decorated with lots of scars,
over the large tattoo on his right side, back up to his neck where they pushed
into rebelliously bleached blonde hair, right behind the multi-pierced ears. My
head rolled to the side as he started to move again and his lips found their way
to my neck, kissing, licking, biting the skin. My eyelids fluttered, unsure if
to stay open or fall close, sight falling upon the revolver lying on the bedside
table.
Pants and gasps and hisses were all I could put in between deep inhales of air,
my feet brushing along his calfs as he kept on rocking us atop the soft sheets
in this hideout.

Like this, right now, we were just two people wanting to be with each other.
Once this was over, he would be a Yakuza and I would be a law student again –
a living paradox. I could not help to love this criminal, could not help to be
drawn to him like a magnet.

His lips reached my ear now, nibbling at the lobe and shell, panting my name
into it. Sometimes it was hard to believe that those hands which treated me so
gently, carefully, were able to hurt, threat, kill.
Another deep thrust and I threw my head back. 
A satisfied smirk curled his lips, as he'd obviously found what he'd been
looking for. “You feelin' good?”, he asked as he kept pushing in and pulling
back in a steady, fast rhythm. I nodded and held onto his shoulders. He was
fastening his pace once again, both of us close to the edge now. His hands were
keeping my hips place, his lips were mapping my neck and collarbones, and it
wasn't long before it all became too much and I came underneath him with a
hoarse moan. 
I felt his body stiffen above me, heard the short hiss as he came not too long
after me, resting atop of me for a few moments to catch his breath, before he
rolled off me. Coming to lie on his side, he pulled the blanket over our bodies.
I snuggled up to him, his fingertips drawing little patterns on my scalp which
was securely tucked under his chin.

“Once you've finished studying, promise me you'll bring me to jail.”, he
suddenly whispered, breath brushing my ear.
“Why would I do that?”, I asked and lazily pushed my lips along his
shoulder, eyes closed. My right hand was placed on his stout chest, feeling the
rebellious heart beating under layers of bone, muscle, and skin. My left hand
slowly traced the thin, black lines of his tattoo, and I liked how goosebumps
spread along his skin.
Faithful arms secured their hold around me as he spoke on. “I don't want to
soil you with the sins I committed.”
“I'd rather run away with you.”, I said and smiled.
“You would?”, he asked.
“I would.”, was my answer.
“You sure do like his Bonny and Clyde thing too much for your own good, you
know.”

But as he leaned over me and kissed me and I could feel him smirking against my
lips, I knew he liked the thought.



                            Kapitel 6: truth (RxR)
                            ----------------------


»There's always four sides to a story.
Mine, yours, the truth,
and what really happened.«




They say, you are into me because of my bike.
They say, you are into me because of my looks.
They say, you cling to me because of a rebellious idea you fancy somewhere in
the back of your head.
They say, I am a pervert for dating a guy four years younger than me – a
student.
They say, I am no good for you because of my bike and other dangerous things I
represent.
They say, I am no good for you because of the bleached, spiky hair, the
jewelery, and the leather jackets.
They say, I am no good for you because I do how I please.
They say I am no good for you because they don't have an idea about us.

They don't know how gently I treat you when we're together because you're
precious to me.
They don't know I go to evening classes to catch up on my degree besides work.
They don't know that you are my soft spot and that you are the one in control in
this relationship because your charms cast a spell on me that makes me indulge
your every whim.
They don't know how you snuggle up to me at night, and how I will hold you in my
arms to keep you safe and warm.


The first time we met was at the motorbike shop I work at as a mechanic.
You were casually walking through the rows of neatly polished bikes as if you'd
been here a hundred times before. Briefly, the tips of your index and middle
finger ghosted over the sleek surface of a black-painted Harley Davidson, as our
eyes met.
A smile, and you walked out of the shop.

From then on, you would come every day at the same time, always looking at the
different bikes with a gleam in your amber eyes.
After a week, I finally had it in me to approach you.

“You come here often.”, I stated casually, wiping my greasy hands on a piece
of cotton. I had just finished fixing the bike he was currently looking at.
“I'd want to ride a bike, actually. But my parents say I can't get a license
before I graduate.”, you said and your smile faltered a little.
“I just fixed this one, so it needs a test ride. Wanna join?”

We didn't go exceptionally far or long, just a stroll around the block, but
behind me, you were laughing in joy, squeezing my stomach tight with your arms
around me.
Around the corner of the shop, I let you hop off the bike because if my boss saw
me taking a stranger along on a customer's bike, I'd lose my job right away. You
took off your helmet but I refused taking it right then.
“It'd be strange, if I came back alone but with two helmets. You can give me
that one back tomorrow.”, I said and saw a flash of understanding in your
eyes.

Please come again tomorrow.

“Will do.”

And you did just that.
Coming every day, and I would take you for a ride on my own bike when work was
over.
We took tours outside the city, and on the weekends, when you were off school,
we went for such long trips that we always stopped somewhere to get lunch
together.
After one of those trips, I let you off at the end of your street. It was late
and dark already, and I don't know why but suddenly you took my helmet off and
kissed me.

“Thank you for the wonderful day. Good night.”

From then on, I picked you up right after school but we didn't go on trips
anymore but on dates. And until now – contrary to popular opinion – we kept
things nice and innocent but today was your graduation ceremony. I was sitting
on my bike, ready to leave, because instead of joining the graduates' party
later, I would take you on a trip outside the city to a nice, private hotel we'd
spotted a few weeks ago.
Right after you received your degree, you hugged your parents, kissed your
mother on the cheek – and told them you were gay.

“Aki! Let 'er rip!”
You spurt towards me with long steps, a bright smile on your face, the neatly
folded degree in the clasp of your hand but you carelessly stuff it under your
jacket a moment later.
Your Dad is coming closer, his face red and angry, as you put on your helmet and
just in time I kick the engine and we rush off.

Once again, I feel the heat of your breath tickle the back of my neck, your arms
around my stomach, and your joyful laughter rings in my ears as we pace down the
road.



                                Kapitel 7: war
                                --------------


It was one of those nights where I wondered if the neighbors were already sick
of hearing us.
The yelling, the arguing, glass smashing against the walls, things being tossed,
the dog barking, the bed thumping into the wall afterwards.
This relationship was far beyond a simple “screwed up” and far too
dysfunctional to be good for either one of us but we kept this thing between us
alive, however.

You shoved me further up the bed with another forceful thrust of your hips, your
hands grabbed the back of my neck and pushed my face into the pillow – the
pose was so degrading I'd usually protest instantly against this. However, I
didn't.
I just kept screaming louder under the pleasure you offered, kept pushing back
harder as if I'd lost my mind the moment our lips had met in a desperate, hard
tangle when you had decided to shut up my constant verbal bitching.

You had slept with another of these... dare I say women. You had spent a drunk
night out with some friends, picked up a girl and fucked her in this bed. In our
bed.
I, in return, had spent a night out getting picked up by one of these... dare I
say men. 

It was an endless maelstrom of action and reaction, guilt and blaming, pushing
and pulling, and I knew we would never find an end to this. It was just the way
things worked between us.
We needed to be angry at each other, we needed to pull each others hair, needed
to make the other jealous to just get assured again that said other loved us
still. Like two wolves in sheep's clothing constantly trying to devour each
other.

You were pulling my hair, and I dug my nails into your thighs. I could barely
breathe because of the pillow covering my face, so I turned my head to the side,
just to bite your right hand that was stemmed into the mattress next to my head.
Your answer was a low grunt and another rough shove, then everything went white
for a moment.

As my eyelids fluttered apart again, I could smell cigarettes and sweat and I
still laid on my belly in my own come. My dog in front of the bedroom door had
stopped barking, there were shards everywhere, the sheets were torn and messed.
I smiled.
You must have noticed I woke up because once I sat up next to you, you put a
glowing cigarette between my fingers. 

We sat there, in silence, each just smoking a cigarette like the survivors of
our personal war, relieved and exhausted. My fingertips brushed against the
scratching marks on your thigh and your mouth twitched with a minimal smirk.
You looked at the red marks on my neck and just huffed as you fished another
cigarette from your pack.



                             Kapitel 8: delirious
                             --------------------


Fingers sluggishly dragged along fogged glass windows, the painted patterns all
the messier through the slight rocking of the train. It was early morning –
very early – and Uruha had spent half of the night trying to fix his
figurative problems while drowning his sensory system in the sensation of
alcohol. Or to put it in other words: He was trashed beyond reason.
Needless to say that with every pint he flushed down his throat, his thoughts
got messier and more unsatisfying than before.

So he ended up on the subway, on his way home, and had decided to give the whole
problem a mathematical shot.
The problem at hand was his limited skill palette in social interaction, paired
with the superior attractiveness of his object of desire and the massive need to
get laid rather sooner than later.

He had been busy sketching down a hash algorithm before, figuring out what
features he'd might need to attract the other's attention in a good way, other
than tripping over his own feet and bumping into him, sending a stash of papers
his crush had been holding all the way over the university corridor, along with
students' laughter and awkward looks and whispers. Because he'd already done
that and it, obviously, wasn't the kind of attention he'd been seeking.
A remorseful look and a sigh wasn't the best of achievements and ever since that
embarrassing incident, the both of them hadn't talked.

- cuteness
- eloquence
- good looks
- certain liking in literature
- boobs

These were the points he'd found out having attracted positive attention in his
co-worker but since he would only be able to accomplish four out of five, he'd
decided to count the last one as an error within that matrix. He was still
drunk, so little slips were possible, right?
Trying to transmit a PageRate algorithm onto criteria which would most likely
make the other fall for him turned out to be a bit of a hassle and once he was
done sketching it down, he felt as smart as he had when he'd started sketching
at first.

Why was interaction with other human beings so hard, anyway?
If some kind of God, or Krishna, or Almighty, or power, or whatever one would
fancy to call it, existed, why'd he make it so hard on mankind?
Could that old, bearded guy up there not just offer him a simple subjunction
here?
An idiot-proof point that, if achieved, would make his object of interest fall
madly in love with him. That would be nice for a change.
But no, instead of that simplest solution, he had to write a fuckload of
formulas and stochastics into the thin sheen of humidity on dirty subway
windows, just to find out he still did not have a clue at all.

Life was not fair.

Finally, he fell back into one of the seats and closed his eyes. He felt
nauseated for a second, until he opened his eyes again, feeling sleepy and in
desperate need for a toothbrush and a hot shower. He was really craving for his
pyjamas.
He would never live through one more day at university – and the last time
he'd said that had been back in his own days as a student, not a teacher, like
now – given that he would meet him every day, at least during lunch break at
the cafeteria.

He wanted to spend time with him. At the same time, he knew he would turn around
and walk away as soon as he'd spot that black-haired adonis down the hall.
It was like a paradoxon... or rather, like an aphorism..?
Because if this was the latter, he'd have to ask his co-worker about it, didn't
he?
Why was he drawn to a man of literature in the first place? It was not like they
were having the same wavelength in terms of thinking – maybe that was why this
whole thing would not work out in the end?

His musing was interrupted by the cell phone in his pocket ringing, and it took
him a moment to fish it out of the tight confines of his pants to read the text
message from the person he'd been thinking about all the time.


From: Aoi-san

Hey, pretty.
Couldn't sleep half the night.
Riddle for you:

I am 2 + 2 but I don't
equal 4. What am I?
-A

PS. For an answer meet me
at main station Staba in half
an hour!


He smiled like a dork to himself and got off the train at main station.
He did not know what the answer for that riddle was, neither did he know how
much better his night would eventually get once he found out about it. However,
after tonight, he would not have to worry about his social awkwardness anymore.




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