RHAPLANCA (prooth) wrote in desfel,
RHAPLANCA
prooth
desfel

( spiral drabble challenge ) defense mechanisms, specialties.

title: defense mechanisms.
rating: k+-pg.
summary: ( prompt ) kiyotaka | kiyotaka's mother. Talking about Ayumu.
pairings: brotherly kiyotaka/ayumu.
warnings: implications of child abuse, narumi mama's poopy morality.
notes: aaa am actually a little iffy about this, so not posting it as a reply yet!
As a teenager, his mother dispassionately tells him that he has a little brother.

Vaguely, he wonders about the implications of that. There shouldn't be any underlying meaning, and he really shouldn't care otherwise; so when he sees the baby in the crib and he can't help but smile (because he does care, and years later that care scares him), he's honestly so very relieved that this tiny child has entered his life. His mother comes in and sees him standing over the side, and she smiles before waving over to him.

Kiyotaka doesn't move.

She asks him if he should be practicing his next composition while he reaches over the side of the cradle and presses his fingers to the baby's forehead, brushing his thumb over the middle. The amount of love he feels is... interesting, to say the least. He had thought that he would be apathetic to this, to anything beyond his piano playing, really; but, looking at the bundle of joy that's opening his eyes on the bed and looking up at him inquisitively, Kiyotaka loves.

Tiny fingers reach up and enclose around one of his and there's a soft sounds -- intelligible and he's not able to make them out -- that make him beam and reach out with his free arm to pick the baby up. (His name is Ayumu, Kiyotaka remembers.)

During this, his mother looks almost- perplexed.

No, he thinks softly. She's definitely perplexed.

His mouth finally opens when he has Ayumu (safely, warmly) in his arms, "I'll go in a minute. I want to hold him until he goes back to sleep." It's true. He wants to hold him.

"I can do that while you play-"

"-- no. Really," he pauses to look over his shoulder and smile briefly before looking back at Ayumu to direct that now full smile at him, "I want this."

And, it's strange. Strange, at least, that he can say he wants something like this when he has a tour coming up and he should be playing instead of holding his baby brother.

He isn't expecting it when his mother walks over to him and starts to pry the baby from his arms, smiling something strained and exceedingly fake by the second. "Why? You've seen i- him before. There's no need for you to hold him," she says, getting her (broken beyond sight, practically useless) hands near one of Kiyotaka's arms before Kiyotaka turns his back to her.

Irrevocably suspicious, he just keeps cradling the child and trying to keep his mother away with every newly discovered, over-protective bone in his body. Ayumu is a good baby; he doesn't cry when he's jostled and that suits Kiyotaka just fine.

He succeeds today in instinctually protecting Ayumu, then; his mother sighs like it's a grievance and shakes her head. "Why?" She repeats, poking and prodding with invisible tweezers, trying to get to the bottom of this supposed mystery to her.

"Is it wrong to want to hold my only little brother?" He answers her question with a question of his own, knowing it'll irritate her and -- for once -- not really caring. (Because he doesn't understand why she would try and keep Ayumu away from him.) "Is he going to learn how to play the piano, too?"

Her face is the perfect picture of disbelief at first, before it slackens into apathy and she tells him, "There's no need for that."

Two years later, he's seventeen and sitting down with his mother drinking tea; Ayumu is napping on his lap and his mother is sifting through old compositions with a smile on her face. He figures this as good a time as any to ask, so he does: "Where do you take Ayumu when I'm not here?"

She freezes up momentarily (again, he's suspicious of this), and her smile is then forced when she looks up at him and says, "The park, of course." Strange, that: Ayumu doesn't come home with scrapes from playing -- he would be able to tell, he thinks -- instead with patches over holes that make it seem like he had been to the doctors. His little brother is always quiet when he asks him and he's more than wobbly on his feet.

The day after he crushes his fingers in the piano, Kiyotaka smiles at his mother and calls her a liar. A week after that, he's taking Ayumu away and wondering why he didn't do anything about it before; hesitation is a sign of cowardice and, perhaps, that is what he is- or was, back then.

On that day he goes to see his mother again and though she tries to turn him away he's able to come in without more than a mundane fuss. Ayumu still doesn't talk about anything that happened and while it unnerves Kiyotaka, he lets Ayumu keep those things to himself. Kiyotaka would rather spend his time trying to make the kid smile more; scowls don't look good on the faces of five-year-olds.

"What are you going to do with that thing?" She asks after ten minutes of silence spent thinking about tea and what ifs.

Kiyotaka just smiles and leans back in his seat. "He's not a 'thing'. His name is Ayumu, and he's my little brother," he chides none-too-gently, the disdain clear in his tone; it's enough to make her flinch slightly (the son she spent so much time investing in saying such things with such a tone). He continues only after looking away and checking his phone -- just in case something comes up, "I'm going to raise him." As best I can. "You don't mind, do you?"

She does not, and it's apparently in the way her face wrinkles (this is disgust) and her jaw tightens.

"I don't care- there's no need for it anymore!"

If that's not permission, then Kiyotaka doesn't know what it is. Either way, he declares that he's finished now ('it', 'it', 'it', she's always called Ayumu 'it' when he asks about him), so he stands up and starts walking away.

The next words come in a flurry, an agitated rush: "It's fragile." And yes, he certainly agrees with that to some degree; Ayumu doesn't cry or throw fits. He just holds it in and hopes for the pain to be quelled some other way, whether it be from a warm hand on his head or warm arms carrying him to bed. He doesn't ask for anything; his eyes are always watching, always taking in the surroundings, and sometimes they narrow in on the piano.

What his mother rejects with her entire body, Kiyotaka embraces with a genuine smile; and, taking Ayumu's hand in his own, he introduces him to Benediction de Dieu dans la solitude.
title: specialties.
rating: pg.
summary: ( prompt ) hizumi / ayumu. Seduction. "That is such a stereotyped way to try and win someone over to your side.".
pairings: hizumi/ayumu.
warnings: a kiss, fluff.
Oh, you must be joking.

Now, Ayumu tries to walk his week off with a point on Sunday. He tries -- very hard, mind you -- to forget the subtle little glances sent his way, and the "accidental" touches he receives before going to bed. Hell, it's easy to forget, too, that a daring hand snatched his drink up from in front of him and poured it down the throat of a devil.

These are all very easy things to let pass because Hizumi has always been the more spoiled, affectionate being between the two of them, even if Ayumu is most definitely the most benevolent.

(He's always strangely obtuse when it comes to his own destiny, but: details.)

However, he cannot and will not ignore the fact that the house does not smell like meat tonight; and, there are a bunch of meatless foods on the table, waiting to be eaten by the two patrons living in Kiyotaka's house. Overall score: an A plus for effort certainly, but Ayumu isn't so sure about the taste yet. A man after his own heart made and prepared this, but a man after his body made and prepared it right.

Hizumi is certainly after his heart, Ayumu knows; it's a messy mix of desperation and possessiveness that really can't be missed because he is more benevolent than Hizumi, who is, in fact, capable of being quite sinister. He's almost (key word: almost) afraid to put any of it in his mouth in fear of it actually tasting good. His counterpart proves his worth around the house when he helps clean, but this is overkill. Ayumu isn't ready to accept any attraction at this moment.

Regardless, Ayumu sets his bag of groceries on the counter and sets his coat over the back of a chair, before he can deny himself no longer. Just a little bite won't hurt him; it never really has -- not immediately -- because no matter what he eats now Hizumi will have him working it off later (as much as it kills him on the inside to admit). But, still, he would rather be safe than sorry, and it definitely shows in his cooking. Just because Hizumi wants to live it up, doesn't mean that he has to follow the designated leader.

He misses his peaceful, quiet naps on the roof, damn it!

"Mm," he hums after sticking just one bite in his mouth like he convinced himself that he would. "Not bad." Hizumi is still trying to seduce him to his side, then; Ayumu has already made his decision. No stereotype will have him changing his mind no matter how tempting it becomes to switch sides.

A hand on his elbow has him jumping slightly, the clench that follows it making his heart thump under his ribcage. He receives a bright laugh for his trouble and a gentle squeeze around his elbow before the hand retracts and Hizumi, wearing a hideously pink apron that does not at all match him, walks around him to find his seat at the table.

After dinner, Ayumu exacts revenge by reaching out and running his fingers through Hizumi's hair -- forever untamable -- watching gold eyes widen. "Honestly," he says with a small, jaded smile on his face that Hizumi would like nothing more than to kiss away. "You did a good job with dinner tonight. Thank you."

Sincere words of gratitude uttered from Ayumu Narumi are rare, precious things that should be cherished, and Hizumi tastes victory when he's allowed to cup Ayumu's jaw and press their lips together in a kiss.
Tags: c: ayumu narumi, c: hizumi mizushiro, c: kiyotaka narumi, p: general, p: hizumi/ayumu, p: kiyotaka/ayumu, r: k+, r: pg, type: ou, | spiral: suiri no kizuna
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