Tetsu understood. From the beginning Hisashi
had told him that he was in love with Jiro. Tetsu had been intent on trying
to change his mind, but when he saw the way they looked at each other
he knew it was beyond his control. Hisa had tried his best to let him
down nicely when the time had come, but it was plain that night that it
took all of Hisashi's self control not to run after Jiro and pour his
heart out then and there. There had been both pain and joy shining in
his eyes when he watched Jiro run away. Tetsu had stood silently watching
as Hisashi sunk to the porch floor, his head in his hands. Unable to comfort
the guitarist, he quietly went inside to gather his things. Afterall,
after that scene he was fairly sure Hisashi
didn't want him around.
"I-" he began when he came back out to the porch. He knelt down beside Hisashi, "I think I should go." He reached his hand out and put it on Hisa's shoulder. The blue-haired man looked up, tears shining in his eyes. Tetsu went on, "You know I'm here for you if you need me. As a friend." The last two words were slightly pained, but he knew that it was the only way things could be.
Hisashi put his hand on top of Tetsu's and smiled, grateful to the small bassist. "I know. That means so much to me; to hear you say that, after tonight I mean. Thank you." Hisa raked his hands through his hair and stood up. He leaned heavily against the rail on the porch. He reached under a ledge and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Just as he was about to light it he looked at the small thing. For so long these had been an integral part of him, but now that he actually looked at the cigarette it seemed strange that such a small, fragile thing could be so addictive. He held it in his fingers and broke it into two pieces and let them fall to the floor.
Tetsu took Hisashi's preoccupation with the cigarette as his cue to leave. Hisa didn't even notice, he was staring at the cigarette he'd just broken, speechless. It had been so easy to break. The habit wouldn't be that easy, but for Jiro's sake he knew he could do it. He had to make it up to him someway, and this was the best way he could think of to prove his love still existed?
*************
A week passed without the two speaking to each other. Takuro had gone on a vacation(Em: *gasp!!* takky?? leaving WORK?!?!) and there had been no practices. Jiro worried that Hisashi had reacted the wrong way to his confession. Every day he looked at the telephone and silently wondered what would happen if he called Hisashi. //No,// he thought, //I said I would wait for him to be ready for me, and if that means waiting weeks, months, even years, I will wait for him.// He steeled his impulse to dial the number and kept himself occupied with other matters.
After days of twitching everytime he saw a phone Jiro decided that he would feel better if he took off in the car for a while. He stopped for gas at a small gas station and when he went in to pay he almost broke into tears looking behind the register at all the packs of cigarettes there. They reminded him of Hisashi, his mouth, nice gentle fingers. He couldn't hold back anymore. He went with his impulse this one time and bought a box of 20 packs of Hisa's favourite brand and hopped back into his car and sped towards Hisashi's house.
On the way, Jiro decided that knocking on the door would be a bad idea, so he'd chosen to write a letter to leave with the cigarettes outside Hisashi's door. He sat in his car for nearly 15 minutes trying to write out the perfect note. He finally gave up and wrote a simple apology on a napkin and opened his car door. He walked slowly up the porch steps, remembering the other night, his confession. He unconsiously reached a hand up to feel the tender flesh that had bruised on his face. He gently pressed down, feeling a sharp pain race across his face.
Jiro sighed when he reached the door. He bent down to
place the gift on the mat just as the door opened and Hisashi looked out.
Jiro jumped back, frightened out of his thoughts and forced to the present
situation. He stuttered, trying to shove the cigarettes into Hisashi's
hands, not understanding why HIsa just pushed them back at him. //Is he
so angry as
that, to not even accept a gift of cigarettes from me?// he couldn't help
but let the paranoia get to him.
"Jiro, stop it!" Hisashi finally had to yell at him as he stood there like a bumbling idiot. "I don't want them!" he exclaimed in an exasperated voice. "I quit smoking."
Jiro protested, "But, I got your favourite brand. Just because they're from me doesn't mean you cant take them. Please! don't hate me, Hisa, I- I-" he paused, "Wait, you quit? You quit smoking?" He looked around, making sure he was at the right house and that this was the right blue haied guitarist. He was, and it was, and he asked again, "You, the living chimney, quit smoking?" His jaw had dropped open as he tried to figure out what had brought this about.
Hisa scowled slight at the chimney comment, but he nodded, "Yes, I quit smoking." He sighed as he yet again pushed back the cigarettes that Jiro was still dumbly jabbing into his stomach. Jiro shook his head and snatched them away, mumbling an apology.
They stood there in an awkward silence for what seemed
like an eternity. Jiro twiddled his thumbs aimlessly and Hisashi bit his
lip uncertainly. Neither of them knew what to do or say in the situation
they were faced with. Finally, Jiro shuffled his feet, "I guess I
should be leaving, then, eh?" He turned slightly to leave, but Hisashi
reached out a hand to stop
him.
"No," Hisa said softly, pulling the larger man towards him. He tilted his head back and stood tall to plant a needy kiss on Jiro's mouth, surprising him as much as he had been surprised the week before. Staying attached, he led Jiro inside before he broke away.
"I think we've both waited long enough," he said matter-of-factly as he led Jiro down the hall towards the bedroom.