Story Title: Hurt
Author: Picklesticks Genre: Angst, fluff, etc
Rating: PG – no noogie, but one very nice kiss.
Summary: Ryo is hurting after the fight when they arrived. Koji tries to help. I've only seen the first two DVDs, so I may get stuff wrong. Please forgive, and enlighten me as to where I go wrong.
Warnings: Slash Koji/Ryo, minor angst, author who hasn't seen all 4 DVDs.
Notes: When the three guys are attacked by the generator immediately after arriving in 2007, Ryo sounds like he's in a great deal of pain when he's grabbed, and he collapses after like he's hurt, but does anyone else notice how immediately after that he's fine? My take on what's going on.
Archive: Yes, just tell me first.
Disclaimer: Not mine. They'd be doing more naughty things if they were. Please don't sue, I'm just a poor college kid.
Koji knows.
I've been putting on a brave face for him, and for Gawl; we've got enough concerns with the generator showing up precisely when we arrived, and don't need me to add any, especially after Koji's discovery about our timetable. So I closed my eyes, breathed shallowly, and put on a brave face all day, pretending the generator had given me no worse than a few bruises and a bit of a scare. Gawl's been oblivious, of course: he's not the most observant person at the best of times, and generating makes him hungry and tired -- thus, irritable, and even more unobservant. I tried to hide my pain from Koji, as well, because underneath his stoic exterior he worries deeply, and he didn't need to be worrying about me on top of our mission. I wear my heart on my sleeve, more often than not, but Koji doesn't. You might think he doesn't care, because you can't see the caring on his face, but when you know how to look for it, it's there, and it's deep. If I'd told Koji how much pain I was in, I know he'd worry about me, and we need all his formidable intelligence focused on the task at hand.
But he knows anyway. Once we get settled in our rented room, with Gawl snoring away contentedly, Koji arises stealthily and seats himself at my side, where I lie trying to move as little as possible.
"Ryo," he murmurs, his deep voice a soft, almost inaudible rumble. "I know you're not asleep. You've been in pain and trying to hide it all day. How badly are you injured?"
I briefly consider protesting, but abandon the thought almost immediately. Koji knows. "I'm not sure. No broken ribs, I think, but other than that I don't know."
"Take off your shirt, then."
I strip off my sleeping shirt, feeling the cool night air brush against my exposed skin like a lover's caress. Koji sucks in a sharp breath as he sees the angry, deep black bruises striping my body, and he runs his hands over my sides with painstaking gentleness. Carefully probing, he backs off whenever he finds a painful spot, almost before I can register the pain enough to hiss. His hands are warm and strong, moving over my skin in ministration that is almost a caress, almost the way I've dreamed about. . .
No. I snatch my thoughts back from that line. Don't go there, Ryo. Mission. You're on a mission. No time for distractions, for personal needs or wants. . . Look at Koji. He's worried about you, because you're his friend, but he's still focused on the mission. Notice that he didn't say anything until nighttime, when we had nothing mission-related facing us. Koji has been intensely focused all day; he never let himself get distracted by peripherals, like seeing someone actually riding a bicycle, something we knew only as an antique, prized by collectors but never, ever actually ridden. In Koji's life, everything is strictly prioritized. Right now, the mission is of ultimate importance. He cares about us, about Gawl and myself, but anything that doesn't contribute to the mission's completion, or anything that stands in its way, will not, cannot, be admitted into his life. I know him well enough to know this. Gawl and Masami can argue as long as they want, until they're blue in the face, and Koji will allow them to do so as long as they don't threaten the mission, but he remains aloof, even more self- isolated than normal, because he at all costs will not allow himself to be drawn into more interaction than necessary. And my dreams, at least in the context of our mission, would certainly qualify as. . . unnecessary.
That's the penalty of loving Koji. Yes, I said loving. Because I do love him. For all his stoicism, for all his mission-comes-first focus, for everything that makes him him, I love him. But as any scientist knows, love is dangerous. It clouds judgment, limits reason, and brings the emotions into play. Love is not something that follows rules or conforms to theories, cannot be weighed, measured, or calculated, and can affect even the most dedicated of individuals. It is uncontrollable and unknowable, the very antithesis of science, which strives for knowledge and power.
I said that everyone can be susceptible to love. Even Koji, focused as he is, may one day love. But he will never show it, if he feels that it interferes with something important. He cares about me as a friend, and as a friend he responds to me and looks after me, but no more. He's not totally heartless, but he will go no farther than friendship, because any more would place our mission in serious jeopardy: even I, weak and emotional as I am, know that. I cannot help but hope, but I know that hope is all I will ever have.
"You're right. No broken bones, so far as I can tell, nothing serious, but more than just a few bruises." Koji frowns at me. "Why didn't you say anything today, Ryo?"
He has interrupted my reverie, and a prickle of heat in my cheeks warns me that I'm flushing; Koji will see it in my pale skin. I turn my face away. "We needed to focus on the task before us," I reply. "We all have discomforts, Koji. Why complain? Gawl does enough of that for all three of us, and some to spare."
His mouth quirks in a half-smile, and a secret longing rises in me to press my lips to the smirking corner of that mouth. I quash it immediately, strongly. The mission, Ryo.
The smile fades quickly enough. "This is more than a little discomfort, Ryo. You're in pain. We could have asked the policeman for a painkiller for you."
"It's nothing," I start to say, then stop, because it's not nothing. I'm hurt. I know I am, and it should be my job as a member of the team to see that I'm functioning as well as I can. "I should have thought of it," I say instead. "I guess I wasn't thinking."
Koji lays a hand on my – still bare! – shoulder, his face gentle. "I'm not blaming you. I just wish you would have said something."
In a moment of bravery – foolishness? – I lay my hand over his, and look up into his narrow, intense eyes. "Koji. . ." I start to say something, then stop, trail off with only his name spoken.
There's a flash of emotion in his eyes, and abruptly he breaks eye contact, his head dropping to stare at the floor. "I thought I was going to lose you, Ryo," he says, softly but forcefully. "I thought I was going to stand there and watch you die. Don't make this any harder on me than you have to."
Nani? I say nothing. I don't want to interrupt him, and maybe never hear what he will say.
"Ryo, you and I know that this mission has grave risks. One or more of us may not live. But damnit" he snarls, his voice a harsh whisper in the dark, "I don't want to see you hurt."
My lips are trembling with the effort not to speak, because there's so much I could say, and most of it would provoke unfortunate results. Koji is an intense person in everything he does. This may be no more than his typical intensity toward friendship. . . but my heart longs for it to be something more. "Koji. . ." I whisper again.
His eyes go wide, shocked, then he turns away from me, pushes himself back. I sit up, ignoring a protest from my pained body, and reach out one hand toward him. "Koji," I say, a protest against his sudden move.
"Don't." He turns his head away from me abruptly, the sharp motion throwing his long hair over his shoulder, like a shield to protect him from me. "Just don't, Ryo. Lie down, and in the morning we'll go get you some painkillers, and maybe wrap those ribs if they keep hurting you."
"Koji, what's wrong? Why're you. . ." He waves a hand to cut me off.
"Don't ask. The answer won't do any of us any good." His voice catches, and a flash of inspiration takes me. I know why he's so upset.
There's only one thing to do. Before I can lose my nerve, I grab his shoulder, pull him around to face me, and cover his lips with mine.
Koji makes a startled noise deep in his throat, and for a moment resists me, long enough for a voice of doubt to start in my head. You fool, you've done it now. . . Then he melts, his resistance gone, and his lips open under mine, and I'm in heaven. Koji. . .
Maybe I don't know him so well after all.
The kiss ends, and he draws back from me, his eyes wide. His hands cradle my face gently, and I cover one with my own, turning my face to nuzzle his palm gently. My eyes rise to meet his, and I smile slightly at what I see. Shock, yes, but the good kind, the kind that says I've always wanted this, but never thought I would have it. . . and his lips have gone soft, reaching out slightly for the contact they lost, and all I can think is He feels it too. . .
"Ryo," he breathes softly, and I stop him before he can say any more. One finger over his lips, feeling the soft, moist warmth as a shiver that runs down my arm and straight to my heart, and I reply, "No, Koji, don't say it. Not yet. Just let it be a little."
He bows his head in assent, his eyes closed for a moment, then he opens them again and takes my hand in his, pulling it away from his lips, opening it to place a kiss in the center of my palm. I shiver, and he holds my hand against his cheek. "Damn the mission, just for now," he whispers. "It will still be there in the morning."
Mindful of my pain, he shifts until we are close, until I can feel the heat rising from him, and he loops his arms gently about me, drawing me to him, and I sigh and rest my head against his shoulder, and for a moment things are perfect. . .
We lie together, this night; only lie, nothing more, for Koji will not do anything to cause me pain, and there is little I could do that would not hurt. But we lie close, and though there was no position where I could find comfort before, as long as he touches me I feel no hurt. I drift off to sleep with my head pillowed on his shoulder, with his face buried in my hair, and his arms about me.
When I wake, it is alone; he has moved to his own bed, and I feel the emptiness as an ache, but I understand. We do not want Gawl, or Masami, or Masami's mother to see us. I understand, and I agree, but it still hurts.