After the first one, she forbade me to write angst >.>
The door closes and echoes hollowly when he closes the door, and he slips out of his shoes after a moment. The air is stale and he wonders if he should breathe a little less, if that would make everything better. He’s hesitant, and he has good reason.
He steps further in, sets his bag down, and when he looks through the empty doorway to the living room, his eyes are drawn inevitably to Jun, who sits as if there’s nothing he’d rather be doing.
It’s a lie, and it’s bitter on his tongue, Sho tries to swallow around his tongue, past the painful lump in his throat, and but he can’t, and he stops, flutters, hovers.
“I’m sorry,” he says and Jun nods once, curtly, if nothing else, then to show that he has heard Sho.
“I’m not your girlfriend,” Jun says, and the words are acidic by the time they reach Sho’s ears – somehow along the way, they have been poisoned.
“I’m not going to sit and tell you what to do and what to say,” Jun continues. “And I’m not going to tell you when to leave and when to stay.”
It’s a constant reminder, and maybe that’s the worst part.
“I’m sorry,” Sho says again, and this time, the words are painful, and he has to force them out, wrench them from his vocal chords that ache from the mere thought. Maybe he just wants Jun to care as fiercely as Sho knows he can.
“But if you’re here with me,” Jun says, and then he’s turning his head and Sho holds his breath, because Jun is hurt, and his eyes are hard and unforgiving. “Then stop running away. I can’t keep up.”
Sho wishes it was the untruth.
His tongue is dry and his lips parched, his throat feel sore and raw, and as he tries to wrestle out he needs to say, Jun lowers his eyes, sighs and gets to his feet. “It never was, was it?”
“Don’t- don’t say that,” Sho manages, but only because he has to, because it hurts. “I want you to stay.”
It’s only in that fraction he sees the packed bag by Jun’s feet.
Jun steps up to him, reaches for his chin and he presses their lips together. They fit seamlessly. Sho wonders when he forgot that.
“I’ll be back,” Jun whispers.
Jun chuckles breathlessly, dryly, without any of the humor and spark Sho knows and loves. He steps away, in direction of the door out, away.
Just before he steps out, he smiles at Sho, and Sho’s heart ache as it breaks into tiny Jun-shaped pieces.
“Before it’s too late.”
The door closes.
For a long moment, Jun surveyed the damage in what used to be his pristine living room.
He blinked – maybe if he blinked enough time, with enough wishful thinking, it’d go away, disappear. Out of eye, out of mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and barely resisted from pressing his hands together in a silent prayer.
Hell, he’d even shout if it he was sure it’d help.
He cracked an eye open, and then both, and he slumped. He felt so defeated.
And then something crashed by the doorway.
“Only two more!” Aiba called cheerfully from somewhere outside, somewhere hidden behind the boxes that were stacked from floor to ceiling in haphazard stacks. Somewhere, Jun knew he’d find Aiba if he searched enough.
“Ow, fuck, watch it,” Nino hissed from somewhere (also in the box mountain in the doorway). “Jun-kun, did you know what you said yes to?”
Jun frowned. “I wasn’t the one saying yes to anything.”
All sounds of movement behind the boxes stopped, and then Nino crooned. “Oooooh, so you asked. How romantic. How about a nice picnic too, to celebrate the momentous occasion?”
“How about I teach you the true meaning of pain,” Jun snapped, stalking up to the boxes and he picked one out of the mountain, hoping the rest wouldn’t fall.
“Sensitive,” Nino’s face leered at him from where the box had hidden him. “Don’t hurt me or Oh-chan will cry.”
“He will not,” Jun frowned and set the box down so he could flick Nino’s forehead, but Nino just laughed and disappeared out the door again.
Jun took a deep breath, and he was about to do a closer damage control when Aiba crashed into the door, again.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” he admonished, but all he got in return was a sheepish grin.
“I’m just so happy,” Aiba grinned, putting the box down.
Jun wouldn’t admit how his heart fluttered when Aiba did that.
“I can’t believe it,” he muttered to himself. Moving in. What had he eaten.
“Yeah, we don’t get it either,” Nino said but grinned. “Help us with the last stuff before Sho-chan gets an aneurysm. Leader isn’t very helpful.”