Sometimes Hiroto wondered if some people, not all people, came with a warning label, either plastered to the insides of their clothes in the place of a washing label because everyone, even you and I know that those are useless.
It wasn't even a random thought. This was a solid, factual, intellectual thought that Hiroto pondered on every night without fail, but it led him down pathways, roadways of hazard signs, dead end streets with no yields or green lights in sight. Most nights, Hiroto would fall asleep with this question on his mind and every morning he woke up forgetting what it was, running blindly into traffic that came his way.
Said man looked up from the paper he was reading because his thigh was the target of a twitchy, socked foot.
"Why do you keep your house so cold?" Hiroto was shaking lightly, his hands clenching and unclenching, desperately searching for circulation once more.
Tora shrugged nonchalantly, printed pages crinkling from the movement.
Suddenly, Hiroto was crawling under his arm, planting himself in his lap, staring at him intently and blatantly obscuring Tora's form of entertainment. Or was it something to keep him busy? They were clearly hanging out at his apartment.
Arching an eyebrow, Tora drew his lips to one side, and flared his nostrils once.
"I thought we were hanging out," Hiroto said softly, looking straight into Tora's hazel eyes, not even blinking once.
Tora's face slackened and his cheeks puffed out. The paper behind Hiroto fell to the beige colored carpet below in a heap.
"You can read your paper later." But the smaller man hoped that Tora never gave that paper a second glance when he was in the room. Why was he afraid of being overshadowed by a stupid piece of stationary?
The question dissipated when the familiar weight of Tora's hands fell on each side of his hips, resuming their rightful position. Eyes locking, Hiroto challenged Tora to whine about that stupid newspaper, how it was more interesting, how it fed him mainstream lies, how it was funny and grand and many other useless reasons.
Tora did nothing of the sort.
With a sigh, the raven haired man leaned close, brushing their lips together with the pressure of a butterfly's wing.
"I didn't even like what I was reading anyway." The whisper ghosted across Hiroto's cheek, and somewhere within the confines of his chest, the younger hoped that every time Tora made him feel ignored and lonely, all would be reassured, mended and bandaged with a kiss of love or something close to it.
"Hush." Hiroto melded into Tora's hold, pressing as close as he could, as far as he could go which wasn't close enough. He had to be deeper, wrapped around Tora's heart and secured with a lock that wasn't made to fit a key.
Weeks later, Hiroto found himself in the same situation, but this time it was in public and they were shopping. Of all things, it happened while they were shopping.
"Tora, what do you think of these," Hiroto turned to look at where the man had been standing, only to see him another aisle over, looking suspiciously at a young woman who was totally oblivious of him, "--jeans."
Not even remotely interested in the jeans, or even clothes (everyone could go fucking naked for all he cared), Hiroto slammed the jeans back onto the rack, failing to see the whole stand wobble dangerously, teetering on the brink of falling over. Stomping to the counter, he didn't see Tora turn around to stare at the rack that had slowed in its near destruction, and to himself at the counter.
"That'll be--" Hiroto cut the woman off and shoved an array of bills, too many he knew, across the counter and made a beeline for the door, belt and new sunglasses in his bag, thoughts of anywhere else on his mind.
"Sir! You forgot your change!" The woman desperately yelled from the counter, waving a handful of bills.
"I'm with him," Tora explained to the woman, taking the change and running out behind Hiroto, looking left and right before finding him halfway down the street. "Hiroto!"
But Hiroto didn't stop. Pace steady and brisk, he was headed home. Tora could go and fuck that woman for all he cared, by the way he was ogling her, he couldn't give a shit less. That's precisely why he was running away from him, clutching his bag with white knuckles and biting the inside of his mouth hard enough to draw a steady stream of blood.
Which tasted quite foul.
Tora full out ran to catch up with the other, putting a hand on Hiroto's shoulder.
"Hiroto." The hand was thrown off and Hiroto kept walking away. Tora ran to catch up to him once more, grabbing his hand.
"Don't you dare call me that!" Hiroto all but spat, wrenching his hand from Tora's grasp and running as fast as he could. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to go shopping anyway.
He didn't want to exist.
Tora didn't move. Just stood still in shock, completely unaware of what caused the man's bizarre behavior.
That night, Hiroto lay awake in bed, he vehemently argued with himself on the notion of making warning labels himself and stitching them to every article of Tora's clothing. The man drove him crazy. When they weren't together, Hiroto would fall into bouts of loneliness and come up with reasons why the other wouldn't want to be with him.
Obviously, Tora had better things to do. Like read the newspaper. Or check out women.
Because spending time with Hiroto was that hard.
That was one of the reasons he had his phone on silent. He didn't want to be called and questioned, he didn't want to receive identical text messages. Hiroto didn't want anything right now.
Except a Tora that expressed that he enjoyed Hiroto's company.
Fitfully, Hiroto fell into a deep sleep that left him tossing and turning, bending and cracking into difficult positions and would leave sore spots in the morning.
For the next two days, Hiroto locked his door and fended for himself. His cellphone was thrown in his sock drawer and the house line was disconnected, cord hanging from the wall limply.
By the third day, the food was becoming scarce and Hiroto was getting restless, urges of running up to the mountains or losing himself in a forest becoming all too much for him to stand. And the fact that he resisted using the phone at all costs, which was bad. Take-out sounded heavenly to his growling stomach.
Just as he was about to crumble and reconnect the phone to order some take-out, there was a loud knock on his front door.
Actually, there had been a lot of loud knocks on his door the past couple of days, but they all seemed to cease when he walked into his bedroom and hid is head under a pillow, or turned the shower on and walked in with his clothes on.
Planning on ignoring this knocking too, Hiroto was just about to get up and start up the shower (which wouldn't be nice if he got in wearing his huge sweats) when he heard a loud voice from the other side.
"Hiroto! Open up!" Came the shout.
It was Tora. Biting his lip in annoyance, Hiroto drew blood for the second time. If he didn't stand and contemplate getting into the shower with his sweats on, he could've avoided hearing his voice and thus, staying around to hear the rest of what Tora was saying.
More loud knocks that turned into thumps. Tora was hitting his fist against the door angrily.
"I don't know what the fuck is wrong! Why are you ignoring me?!"
Shaking his head, Hiroto began to pace. Everything was going so well until now. So well..
"God fucking dammit OPEN THIS DOOR HIROTO OR I'LL--"
The door opened with a flourish and Tora's fist hit thin air to the right of Hiroto's head and above.
"Or you'll what?" Hiroto asked quietly, biting his lip once more, eyes narrowing. "Ogle some more girls?"
Tora furrowed his eyebrows, confused.
"Girls? What are you--" Tora sputtered, but was cut off once more.
"Or read the newspaper?!" Hiroto yelled, standing there with a too big shirt and too big sweats that Tora recognized as his own.
"I have no idea--" But Tora cut himself off, stopping to blink and shake his head. "What are we even talking about?"
Hiroto stood there, his arms crossed, looking off to the side, his head tilting a fraction up, up, up every second. Then he sniffed and a warm prickling wetness began to gather at the corners of his eyes.
Hiroto vaguely wondered how it got there.
Tora knew exactly what they were talking about.
Before Hiroto could even think of slamming the door shut, Tora forced his way inside, foot closing the stupid door that had kept him from what he so dearly missed.
"Get out," Hiroto choked out, taking a step backwards as Tora advanced. "get out!"
As much as he wanted to struggle as Tora's strong arms wrapped around his near shaking body, Hiroto couldn't muster the energy. Starved of this warmth for almost three days. Wallowing in self-pity and misplaced anger.
"Do you even care about me?" Hiroto sobbed weakly, his face pressed desperately into Tora's chest.
Tora felt the tears soak through his thin t-shirt.
"I think about you all the time," He whispered, lips meeting the warm skin of Hiroto's neck, "so much that it hurts."
Hiroto's arms fell out of their cross and wound around Tora's lithe torso, pulling himself closer. God, he wanted to be so much closer. Wrapped around Tora's heart and secured with a lock that wasn't made to fit a key.
Laying awake in bed, Tora fast asleep beside him, Hiroto pondered about his plan to stitch warning labels into every piece of the man's clothing, except this time, it wouldn't be a warning that read, 'Is destined to make a person lose sleep over; questions reliability; drives insane,' but would read, 'Belongs to Ogata Hiroto; stay away; bomb will detonate if touched by another person...but wouldn't kill wearer.'
Looking at the space between them on the bed, Hiroto moved to fill it and molded himself to Tora's front.
With a grunt, Tora opened his eyes, blearily pulling Hiroto to him.
"What's wrong? Can't sleep?" He mumbled, voice thick.
"Too busy thinking about you." Hiroto replied, kissing Tora with every bit of strength in his body.
"Good. Now think about me when you're asleep." Tora chuckled, nuzzling into the younger's neck.
And he did. Newspapers all over the world burned and women were forbidden from clothing stores worldwide while he and Tora laid together in a field of daisies and Hiroto was the only thing on Tora's mind.
A/N; LOL HEY GUYS. I'm writing again. :D