You're a Dirty Love If I've Ever Felt One
you're a dirty word my mother washed my mouth for using.
takanori never took things for granted.
whether it was a little pocket change he found in his pants pocket on laundry day or an offer to design jewelry for a prestigious, internationally acclaimed company, he never took things for granted. he smiled ruefully at the things he passed by no longer, sleeping very little so that he didn't miss the shooting stars and the meteor showers that he could watch so easily from the rooftop terrace of his apartment building.
he was so high above tokyo that all he had to do was slip–
takanori never took things for granted: the intimacy that came with the warm feeling of sharing cigarettes, watching as akira gave up the addiction cold turkey because he wanted to live a little longer. he felt proud, like a father watching his son grow up, and takanori could only watch with jealousy as akira peered down at him sadly, plucking the tobacco from in between his lips and tossing it to the ground, stamping on it.
akira didn't take things for granted. especially not when it came to takanori.
and takanori called him names that should've made his hair curl more than it already was, – (and akira had made fun of him endlessly for the first perm he'd gotten, dubbing him a poodle; takanori had punished him with a week's long abstinence from sex and akira never referred to him as a party poodle again) – akira only taking it, smiling and holding on lazily to his hand.
“when i said i wanted to live longer, i didn't mean i wanted to do it alone,” he shrugged after a while, reaching down to dig into a visibly, comically surprised takanori's pocket and retrieving a pianissimo cigarette box, crushing it in his fist. “i was kinda hoping someone'd be there with me. you know, to keep me company on those dark, scary nights. how're you gonna do that if you're suffocating on a lung, hm?”
takanori never took things for granted. he stared, a mix of anger and amusement easily noticeable in his eyes as he leaned up, pecked akira's lips, and called him an idiot.
takanori didn't miss the smoke as much as he would've missed akira's scent.
whether it was a little pocket change he found in his pants pocket on laundry day or an offer to design jewelry for a prestigious, internationally acclaimed company, he never took things for granted. he smiled ruefully at the things he passed by no longer, sleeping very little so that he didn't miss the shooting stars and the meteor showers that he could watch so easily from the rooftop terrace of his apartment building.
he was so high above tokyo that all he had to do was slip–
takanori never took things for granted: the intimacy that came with the warm feeling of sharing cigarettes, watching as akira gave up the addiction cold turkey because he wanted to live a little longer. he felt proud, like a father watching his son grow up, and takanori could only watch with jealousy as akira peered down at him sadly, plucking the tobacco from in between his lips and tossing it to the ground, stamping on it.
akira didn't take things for granted. especially not when it came to takanori.
and takanori called him names that should've made his hair curl more than it already was, – (and akira had made fun of him endlessly for the first perm he'd gotten, dubbing him a poodle; takanori had punished him with a week's long abstinence from sex and akira never referred to him as a party poodle again) – akira only taking it, smiling and holding on lazily to his hand.
“when i said i wanted to live longer, i didn't mean i wanted to do it alone,” he shrugged after a while, reaching down to dig into a visibly, comically surprised takanori's pocket and retrieving a pianissimo cigarette box, crushing it in his fist. “i was kinda hoping someone'd be there with me. you know, to keep me company on those dark, scary nights. how're you gonna do that if you're suffocating on a lung, hm?”
takanori never took things for granted. he stared, a mix of anger and amusement easily noticeable in his eyes as he leaned up, pecked akira's lips, and called him an idiot.
takanori didn't miss the smoke as much as he would've missed akira's scent.