#but this ending made me cry because I was so HAPPY. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pasaatimonarkin · 2 days

Text

No crying in the Burlesque club I part 5

Han Jisung x reader feat. OT8 Stray kids

Mafia!au

Warnings: cursing, guns, mentions of blood, sexual language, SMUT at the end [please skip the end if you are a minor or don't feel comfortable reading smut]

Words: 7,3k [aka long]

part 4

note: I haven't read this through yet so if there are spelling mistakes, I apologize.

Your eyes opened slowly. You hadn’t slept that well in a while and it felt like you never wanted to wake up. But your eyes quickly widened as you saw the scene in front of you. You were snuggled against Han’s bare chest, his arm circled around your waist. You dared to look up and there Han was, already staring down at you with a sleepy smile that made your heart flutter. "Good morning” He murmured, his voice gruff with the remnants of sleep.

"Morning," you replied, almost whispering. He gently stroked your hair with his good hand. "How'd you sleep?"

You sat up, cheeks flushing pink with the realization of what had happened the night before. You had been dreaming of this moment in secret. Hoping he would feel the same as you. "I slept... fine," you said, your voice a little shaky. "How's your shoulder?"

Han nodded, grimacing slightly as he moved his arm. "It'll be okay," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Thanks to you."

You smiled but couldn't help but wonder if the kiss had been a mistake, if Han regretted it. If the kiss was just from the heat of the moment. You searched his expression, looking for any sign of discomfort or regret, but found none. Instead, his gaze was intense, as if he was trying to read your soul. The silence between you grew heavier, charged with unspoken words and unanswered questions.

It was like Han saw your uncertainty and took the lead. "I meant the kiss," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I've wanted to do that for a long time."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You have?" you whispered.

Han smirked, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards in a way that made your heart race. "Yeah," he said, his voice taking on a playful tone. "You didn't know?" He teased.

You felt a warm blush spread across her cheeks. You were never sure if his constant flirting was because of his personality or because he had set his eyes on you from the start. "I... I didn't," you stammered.

Han sat up and leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, now you do," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. He brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. "And I'd be more than happy to repeat it, if you'd like."

Your pulse quickened, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, closing your eyes as you felt his lips brush against yours. It was a gentle kiss, his hand slid down to the small of your back, pulling you closer. Without thinking you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

As you broke apart, Han smirked. "So, is this the part where you say you've always wanted to kiss me too?" His sarcasm was light, the tension in the room dissolving into a playful banter that felt both new and incredibly natural.

You thought about telling about your feelings but decided to take part in his play. "Maybe," you said, taking a small pause "But you're not getting off that easy. You owe me an apology for taking so long."

Han chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Oh, really?" He raised an eyebrow. "What's the going rate for a kiss these days?"

You smacked his chest lightly, trying to keep a straight face. "I'll think of something," you said, your voice laden with amusement.

Han's laughter was genuine, the kind that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. The sound of his laughter made you smile, you had never heard him laugh like that. Han leaned back on the pillows, his arm supporting his head as he watched you. "I'm all ears," he said, his tone playful.

Before you could come up with a suitable reply, a voice called Han from downstairs. It was Chan. The playfulness drained from the room as quickly as if someone had flipped a switch.

Your eyes grew wide with panic. "What do we do?" you whispered, your grip tightening on the sheets.

Han's expression turned serious, the playfulness vanishing like a ghost at daybreak. "I better go," he murmured, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Let’s talk more later"

You nodded, your heart racing. If Chan found out about what happened he would be angry. He had made it clear that you shouldn’t be a part of his world. And shared feelings could be turned against you.

"Han!" The voice called out again, more insistent this time.

Your eyes darted to the door, and you fell back on the bed "Chan can't know," you whispered urgently.

Han nodded, his gaze never leaving your "I know," he said, his voice low and steady. He knew the rules of this world better than you. And he also respected your brother for wanting to keep those.

Han stepped to your bathroom, and you heard him turn on the shower. When stepped back into the room, he had a towel on his shoulder and hair wet, making it look like he just came out of the shower. He checked if his black jeans were fine as he had slept with them on.

With a final nod, Han strode to the door, leaving your room. "Be right there! I was just in the shower” You heard him yell before closing the door behind him. His voice was casual, like nothing else had happened.

You smiled to yourself, thinking about the last two kisses you shared with Han. You couldn’t believe everything that had happened during the weeks you had been in Strays house. It also dawned on you whether you could actually have a relationship with Han, considering the life he had. Could you still keep your own lifestyle with the Burlesque club? And what happens if Chan finds out?

Your mind was once again storming with questions. With a sigh you raised up from the bed and went to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would slow down your brain for a moment.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of tension and unspoken glances. You two moved through the house like two magnets, drawn to each other. You were too scared of Chan’s reaction that you decided to keep your distance.

The way you gazed each other made you have butterflies in your stomach every time. The feelings you had had about him felt to be increasing hour by hour. You couldn’t help but wander if Han shared the exact feelings too.

As night fell, you knew Han would be leaving the house soon, it was Tuesday. He, Changbin and Seungmin would be racing tonight and the others would be watching. You received a text from Han' "Meet me in my room”. The screen of your phone glowed like a tiny sun, illuminating your face in the darkened room. You quickly hopped off you bed and tiptoed down the stairs. When you reached Han's door, you took a deep breath and pushed it open. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, going through his phone. His outfit was all black like always: Black jeans with a t-shirt tucked into them and a leather jacket.

"I've got a race tonight," Han said without looking up. "I'm leaving soon."

"Can I come?" you asked, hope lacing your words.

Han's gaze finally met yours, and he smiled shortly before answering "You can't," he said firmly. "It's not safe."

You felt a pang of disappointment, but knew he was right. The underground street racing was fraught with danger, and you had no place there. "But I would like to see you race," you protested, voice a mix of desperation and longing.

Han sighed heavily. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "But you can't. I don't want to risk you getting hurt. I can’t keep my eye on you there”.

“I want to see what it’s like. What you guys do when you disappear on Tuesdays and Fridays” you tried to explain. "Besides you're hurt," you pointed at his shoulder. "I want to make sure you’re going to be alright”. You crossed your arms on your chest, trying to make yourself more believable.

Han stood up and with two steps he was standing right before you. “Lee Know is there to make sure my shoulder can handle it.” He took your hands in his and looked in your eyes. "Chan will be there, too. And if he sees you, he is going to be furious. He might not know about our feelings, but he knows we have been spending most of the days together. It’s going to seem like I brought you in the middle of danger in purpose”.

Your eyes stared back into his. It was true, he had been the one keeping eye on you for these past weeks which meant he sticked to your side like glue. And you also knew that Chan didn’t want you to be part of their world at all. Any day now he could be telling you to go back to your own apartment – surprisingly he hadn’t yet.

“Alright fine” you muttered, “But please explain what makes the races so dangerous?” you asked your voice going high, because you knew what the danger there was. Like usually you just couldn’t give up that easily.

Han smirked slightly “Oh I don’t know. You could say that the other mafia men with their guns and knives but I could be wrong” he sneered, voice full of sarcasm. Han gave your hands a gentle squeeze before letting go. "Jeongin is going to stay here. He'll keep you company," he said, his tone softer now.

You nodded, though you couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at being treated like you always needed babysitting. "Yeah," you said, trying to keep the edge out of your voice. "I know he stays to babysit me."

Han chuckled. "Is that what you think?" He reached out and gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. "Maybe Chan just doesn't want you to be lonely," he said, his tone teasing.

"Yeah, right," you said, rolling your eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips because of his touch. The warmth of his fingers lingered on your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Well, good luck then," you said with a sigh.

Han leaned in, his face serious for a brief moment. “Thank you. And don’t do anything stupid. Alright?”

Before you could respond, he closed the space between you and kissed you again, this time with a gentle passion that took your breath away. When he pulled away, his eyes searched yours.

Your heart was racing. Yeah, you were totally going to do something stupid. "Okay," you whispered, a new idea forming in your mind. "I'll be waiting for you."

Han nodded; his expression unreadable. "I'll be back before you know it," he said, turning to grab his keys from the dresser.

You watched him, your mind racing. You wanted to go, you wanted to see what happens there and most importantly, you wanted to be with Han. "I'll be waiting," you repeated, trying to hide your intentions in your voice.

Han's eyebrow quirked at your words, but he didn't question them and moved to the door. "See you when I get back," he said, his hand on the doorknob.

You watched him go, your mind already planning a way to go with him. Once you knew that Han wasn’t inside the house anymore, you left his room to find Jeongin. You checked the living room and there he was, laying on the couch. You sighed before entering, trying to make your voice steady "Hey, can you do me a favor?"

Jeongin looked up from his phone, his eyes half-lidded. "What's up?"

You took a deep breath, heart racing with excitement and fear. "Could you keep a secret for me?" you asked.

Jeongin looked at you quizzically. "What kind of secret?"

"I want to go to the race," you said. "I want to see what it’s like."

Jeongin's gaze sharpened, and he sat up straighter. "You know it's not safe for you," he said, his voice firm.

You nodded and sat next to him. "I know, but I have to be there," you said, voice filled with a fierce determination that even you were surprised "Please, Jeongin”

Jeongin studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. He knew the risks of the streets, the danger that lurked in the shadows of the underground racing world. But he also knew what had happened between you and Han. See you were not the problem of gossip, but Han was. With a sigh, he nodded. "Okay," he said finally. "But only if you promise to stay safe."

Your eyes lit up with gratitude. "I promise," you said fervently. "Thank you, Jeongin."

He gave you a stern look. "If you get hurt, or if anything happens, it's on me," he warned. "And if Chan finds out, I’m dead meat and so is Han."

You nodded solemnly. "I know," you said, eyes shining with understanding. "I know how Chan would react”

Jeongin sighed, his gaze flickering with concern. "Okay," he said finally. "But you're going to have to be smart about it. Stay in the shadows, keep your head down."

You nodded eagerly, mind racing with the excitement of the plan. "I will," you promised. "Thank you, Jeongin."

Without wasting another second, you hurried up to the garage but stopped at the door to see if Han’s car was still in there. It was. Only his and Jeongin’s car remained, and you quickly made your way to Han’s car. Where should you hide? In the backseat? No, he will see me in there.

You heard steps and without thinking you popped the trunk open and climbed inside, closing it right after with a soft thud. Your heart was racing with a mix of excitement and fear. You could have just made up a huge mistake. The space was tight, filled with the scent of gasoline and leather. You curled into a ball, trying to make yourself as small as possible. The darkness was complete, and you could feel the car shifting slightly as Han climbed into the driver's seat.

The engine roared to life, and the car lurched forward, sending your heart racing even more. You had never done anything so reckless, so dangerous before. Yet here you were, hiding in the trunk of a car that was about to race through the streets of Los Angeles, driven by the man you had kissed the first time just last night.

The drive was a blur of turns and acceleration, the vibrations of the car resonating through your bones. You could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The cold metal of the trunk pressed against your back. You had acted so fast that you couldn’t dress up properly as you were only wearing a white top and leggings- oh and no shoes.

When the car finally came to a stop, you waited with bated breath, listening for any sign of danger. The engine cut off, and the silence was deafening. You reached for the trunk release, hand shaking with anticipation. But it wouldn't budge. Panic began to set in as you realized you might be trapped. What if Han doesn’t look in the trunk? You couldn’t just start banging it or scream, someone else could hear.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself, reminding herself that Jeongin knew where you were, you could text him if you were there too long. But the thought didn't do much to ease the anxiety gripping your chest.

The minutes stretched into an eternity, the silence in the trunk broken only by the distant sound of car engines revving and the occasional shout of excitement. You could feel the vibrations of the car, the throb of the bass from the stereos of nearby vehicles, and the occasional jostle as people moved around the car. You heart hammered in your chest, the excitement turning into fear.

You felt Han – or at least you hoped it was him – to sit on the driver’s seat and start the car. As the car started moving again, you realized with a jolt that Han wasn't just driving to the race; he was going to race with you in the trunk. Your breath hitched, and you braced yourself against the cold metal, knuckles turning white. The car picked up speed and the engine growled

The race had begun.

You felt the car come alive beneath you, the engine roaring like a beast unleashed from its cage. The sudden jolt of acceleration pushed your back against the trunk, your breath leaving you in a rush. Your heart hammered in your chest. You had never been this scared since the first might you were brought to Strays’ house when you were on Changbin’s motorcycle.

The car took a sharp turn, and you slammed against the side of the trunk. You bit your lip to keep a surprised scream leave your lips. Your eyes squeezed shut as the world outside tilted and swayed. The smell of gasoline grew stronger, mixing with the scent of rain-soaked streets and the faint hint of fear that clung to the air.

The car jolted as it hit a pothole, and you heard the squeal of tires as Han corrected the course. The engine roared in protest, and you felt the car shift gears. The reality of your situation began to set in. You were in the trunk of a car, hurtling through the streets of Los Angeles, with no way out. If you crashed, you would be trapped and probably dead.

And then, suddenly, it was over. The car came to a stop, the engine's roar fading to a purr. The world outside was quiet once more and you heard Han stepping out of the car. You waited, your breath shallow, listening for any sign of Han's return. You could hear the distant murmur of the crowd, the crackling of a radio, and the occasional clang of tools. The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline lingered in the air.

The moments dragged on, and then you heard it: Han's voice, low and steady, speaking to someone outside the car. "The first round went well." you heard the other voice say.

You heart plummeted. There were more rounds? The thought of being trapped in here, unable to move or breathe, while the car roared through the streets again was almost too much to bear. Panic set in, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps.

But then the lid of the trunk creaked open, a wash of cool, damp air filled the space. Han's face appeared; his eyes widened at sight of you in the trunk. "Y/n?" he barked, his eyes wide with shock. "What the hell are you doing in there?"

You voice was small and shaky. "I wanted to see," you said, voice barely audible over the clamor of the race. "I wanted to know what happens in these kinds of races."

Han's expression was a mix of shock and concern. "You could've gotten hurt," he said. His hand paused midair as if unsure of what to do next.

"I know," You whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "But I'm okay"

Han stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, with a sigh, he offered his hand and helped you out of the cramped space.

"I don't know whether to be angry or impressed," he said finally, his voice a low growl that you could feel in her chest. His hand remained wrapped around yours, his grip firm but gentle.

You looked up at him. "I'm sorry," you began, but Han cut you off with a shake of his head.

"Don't be," he said, his voice gruff. "But you can't do that again." His eyes looking at yours, looking for any signs of injury or distress. "You could’ve been hurt. Badly"

You nodded, feeling the nausea from the race finally dissipate in the fresh air. "I'm okay," you assured him, voice still trembling. "I won't do it again. Being in the trunk was...terrifying."

Han's expression softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're one brave little thing, aren't you?" he teased, shaking his head in disbelief. Despite the danger, his voice was gentle.

"Or just a little crazy," you retorted, cheeks flushing at his words.

Han chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Crazy enough to hide in a trunk during a race," he said, his voice a mix of amusement and concern. He squeezed your hand gently. "Come on, let's get you inside before you catch a cold."

You stepped into the garage, the bright lights assaulting your eyes after the darkness of the trunk. The space was filled with the sounds of mechanics working on cars, the smell of oil and gasoline thick in the air. Han led you to a quieter corner, behind a big tower of tires, his hand still wrapped around yours, protective and warm. "You can wait here," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Stay out of sight, okay? Don’t let anyone, especially Chan see you"

You nodded and he took steps backwards to leave the corner but suddenly stopped. He took off his leather jacket and handed it to you. “Put this on, you’re shivering” he whispered. You took the jacket and with a nod, Han walked away. You hadn’t even realized you were shivering, mostly from the adrenaline than cold but appreciated Han’s thought and put his jacket on. It was warm and smelled just like him.

There was a small hole in the corner of the garage. Through it, you could see the tail end of the races, the cars zooming by in a blur of lights and color. Your eyes searched the track, trying to find Han among the other racers. Your heart leaped in your chest when you finally spotted his car. You watched as he took turn after turn with skill, the tires screeching in protest against the wet asphalt.

The races ended with a flurry of activity, the air thick with the scent of victory and defeat. The engines wound down, the shouts of the crowd echoing through the garage. The other drivers began to file back. And then, finally, Han's car pulled into the garage, the headlights blinding you momentarily before they flickered off. You watched as he climbed out, his eyes scanning the area before landing on you.

"So, what did you think?" he asked, his voice gruff as he walked to you. There was a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"I had no idea it was like this. I thought it would be messier”

Han chuckled, his eyes sparkling with the excitement of the race. “Yeah, it can be”

Before you could say more, the sound of booted footsteps echoed through the garage, and a familiar voice called out, "Han!" You recognized Chan’s voice immediately. You heart skipped a beat, and you stepped back further into the shadows.

"Go sit in the car," Han murmured urgently, his eyes darting towards the open garage door. "Lock the doors. I'll be out soon."

You nodded and didn't have to be told twice. You slipped away from the shadows of the garage and move to the car. You slid into the passenger seat. The scent of Han lingered in the air. With trembling hands, you locked the doors, the click echoing in the quiet of the garage. You watched as Han's silhouette grew smaller as he moved towards the other drivers, his shoulders squared, and his head held high. He was in his element like a king in the land of speed and danger.

You settled into the seat and took a deep breath. You tried to get comfortable, adjusting your position to alleviate the ache in your legs. The garage outside grew quieter as the racers dispersed, their engines fading into the distance. The hum of distant traffic became the only sound, a lullaby to the city that never truly slept. The adrenaline from the race began to wear off, leaving you feeling drained and vulnerable. Your eyes grew heavy, and you felt like you could just fall asleep.

But just as you were about to drift off, the sound of the locks opening jolted you awake. You sat up with a gasp, heart hammering in her chest as the driver's side door creaked open.

"It's just me," Han said gently as he slid to the driver’s seat and closed the door behind him. You sighed in relief.

“So, now you saw what we are doing for two days of the week. Was it as interesting as you thought?” Han asked with a smirk as he started the car.

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t know what I expected”

“Gun fights, crashes, blood, hot chicks? Nah, we race for real” Han said half-mockingly and half serious, eyes fixating on the road ahead.

You felt kind of embarrassed for doing all that just to see that it was only a job for them. You looked through the window as Han was driving through the dark streets. Han placed his hand over yours and your head shot back at him. “I have to admit it was nice to know that you were watching me there” He smiled, drawing circles with his thumb on the back of your hand, “and I also have to admit that you look pretty sexy with my jacket on” he winked. You smiled back at him before laying back on the seat and closing your eyes. The warmth of the car made you sleepy and you decided not to fight it. As you were drifting to sleep, you felt Han’s hand on yours the whole time.

"Ready for the grand finale?" Coco's sultry voice echoed through the dimly lit dressing room, a question directed at the mirror as much as it was to you, Cherry and Lucky. Her eyes, sparkled with excitement as she applied a final coat of crimson lipstick.

You sat quietly in the corner and stared at Coco. You had to watch her flirt and give herself to Han even after you made it clear to her that Han was not available. Han turned down all Coco’s requests and said that he was not interested. For some reason Coco just didn’t give up, like she was determined to get Han to herself.

Cherry and Lucky were looking at Coco with the same feeling. You told them about you and Han and god you didn’t hear the end of ‘I told you so’s. They were as surprised as you that Coco was so bold and didn’t care if Han had someone or not.

The music grew louder, a seductive rhythm that seemed to pulse through the very walls of the club. A hush fell over the crowd, meaning the next performance was about to start. Your and Lucky’s shows were done, Coco’s and Cherry’s remaining. Coco turned to you with a wink. "Showtime, darlings."

You felt your heart clench in your chest as Coco sashayed out of the room, the sound of her heels fading as she went. It irritated even more as you knew how she would be acting on stage: trying to seduce Han as always. You hated being jealous and didn’t want to feel that way. But it was all so knew with Han still. You weren’t sure if you two were together together and if Coco could play her way to Han’s liking.

“You should go sit with Han, make his interest set on you. That will make Coco go nuts on the stage” Lucky winked at you.

“I don’t want it to seem like I’m using him to get back on her” you murmured.

“And you’re not. If you really want to be with the guy, show it. And make him show you that he doesn’t give seven shades of shit about Coco” Cherry said sternly but still smiled at you.

You thought about it and with a deep breath, you stood up and smoothed out your short, black dress. “Alright” you nodded, channeling the confidence you had seen in Coco's eyes, and made your way through the hallway. The air was hot and thick with the scent of hairspray and sweat. Emerging into the dim light of the side stage, you searched the sea of faces for Han. His gaze was on the stage where Coco was already swinging her hips to the music.

Ignoring the flutter of nerves in your stomach, you made your way through the packed audience. You reached had and without a word, you slipped into the empty chair beside him, your hand brushing against his. Han startled slightly, looking down at your intertwined fingers before meeting your eyes.

The music grew more intense, the spotlight moving to Coco as she continued her grand finale. You felt the heat of the lights on your skin as you watched Han watch Coco’s performance. His face was blank, not showing any reaction whatsoever but his eyes never left Coco

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but the tension was palpable. Coco's movements were a tease, each gesture calculated to provoke a reaction. The anger bubbled up inside of you, a potent cocktail of jealousy and frustration. You had never felt possessive before, but the sight of Han’s attention on Coco stirred something primal. Your eyes narrowed, the corners of your mouth turning down in a scowl as you observed the way Coco's hips swayed and her smile grew brighter with every seductive move. It was clear she was enjoying the effect she had on the audience.

Han was observant and sensed the shift in your demeanor. His eyes darted from the stage to your tightly drawn face, noticing the tension in your shoulders and the way your grip on his hand had tightened. He leaned in, his voice a low murmur against your ear. "You okay?" he asked, genuine concern lacing his words.

You took a deep breath and turned to look at him. “It’s just..I-“ you trailed off, unable to describe the feeling you had, you were irritated, frustrated, jealous..

"You're pissed," Han said, his voice gentle as he squeezed their hand.

You nodded, “yeah” you huffed. “It just seems like she is finding her way to carve into you” you admitted.

Han chuckled, the sound low and warm. "You're adorable when you're jealous," he teased, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of your hand. His eyes held a mischievous glint, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the annoyance from your voice. "I'm not jealous," you protested weakly, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

Han's grin only widened. "Sure, you're not," he said, his tone teasing as he stood up and tugged on your hand, motioning you to get up and follow him.

As you walked away, Coco's eyes followed you two, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. You looked at her and saw her annoyance that Han was leaving in the middle of her performance. You couldn't help but sneer at Coco.

Han pulled you to the big bathroom and leaned against the sink, his arms folded across his chest. "So, you are jealous?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

You avoided his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “It’s not that” you mumbled.

Han leaned closer; his breath warm against your face. "Then what is it?" he whispered, his eyes dancing with amusement.

You looked up at him, the anger in your eyes slowly giving way to something softer. "It's just... she's got you all worked up, and... " You paused, trying to find the right words. "I’m annoyed by that”

Han's smile grew into a full-blown grin. "So, you're more than just a little jealous," he whispered, his voice dropping to a playful growl.

You swatted at him, trying to keep the irritation from your voice. "I'm not jealous,"

"Really? Then why don't you tell me what you're feeling?" His eyes searched yours, the playfulness in his tone belying the seriousness of his question.

You felt the weight of his gaze and knew you couldn't keep it in any longer. “I already told you” you said quietly.

Han cupped your face with his warm, calloused hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones gently. "You know I don't care about Coco, right?" Han's voice was steady, his gaze unwavering.

Your eyes searched his, looking for any hint of dishonesty. "But it seemed like you like watching her" you accused, voice barely above a whisper, knowing you sounded stupid and jealous.

“I only enjoy your shows, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble that sent shivers down your spine. Before you could respond, Han's lips found yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was a declaration, a promise, a silent reassurance that Coco's performance meant nothing to him compared to the connection he shared with you. His hands cradled your face, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body responding instinctively to Han's touch. You melted into the kiss, feeling the anger and tension drain away as if it had never been there. Han's kiss grew more insistent, his hands moving from your face to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer. His tongue danced with yours and you wrapped your arms wound around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally broke apart, you both were breathless. "You're mine," Han murmured, his voice gruff with want. "Always." Your breath hitched, the possessiveness in his words sending a thrill through you. You leaned into him, feeling his chest against your own and the steady beat of his heart. "Then show me," you whispered, like you weren’t sure if you wanted him to hear you, but he did.

Han's eyes darkened, and without another word, he took your hand and led you back through the crowded club.

He opened the door to a small, private dressing room next to the one where you usually spent time. This was the one Coco always used, needing to have her own room. Han pulled you inside. The room was a whirlwind of feathers and fabric, the scent of Coco's perfume lingering faintly in the air. Youfelt a pang of irritation, but Han's presence washed it away. He locked the door behind you.

Turning to face you, Han's eyes were filled with a fierce intensity that made your heart race. He stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb traced the line of your jaw. "Tell me if you want me to stop” he whispered.

You felt the passion in his touch. The anger and jealousy inside them had transformed into something desperate. You nodded.

With a gentle tug, Han turned you to face the mirror. His hands slid down your neck, tracing the collarbone before coming to rest on the zipper of your dress. Slowly, deliberately, he began to pull it down, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. Your breath hitched as the fabric fell away, exposing your bare skin to the cool air.

The music from the main stage grew louder and the sound of applause and cheers for Coco, but you couldn’t concentrate on anything else than Han’s eyes. You watched in the mirror as he stepped closer, his chest brushing against your bare back. His hands continued their descent, his fingers grazing the softness of your skin as he pushed the dress down further.

The fabric pooled at your waist, revealing the black lace of your lingerie. He reached to unclasp the bra, his movements sure and practiced. The material fell away. He cupped your gently, his thumbs brushing over the hardened nipples, eliciting a soft moan from you. You could feel the heat of his arousal pressing against your back, the evidence of his desire as undeniable as the passion in his eyes.

There were butterflies in your stomach the whole time. It was all so new, the touching and the desire you felt. You turned around to face him. Your hands found his belt. You wanted him, needed him, more than you had ever wanted anything. The sound of the zipper lowering was like a gunshot in the quiet room, the tension between them palpable. Han's hand covered yours, stilling your movements. He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered, "Let me." You nodded as he unbuckled the belt and let his jeans fall on the floor.

Han's hands moved with purpose, the fabric of your dress sliding down your body until it was at yourr feet. You stepped out of it, legs trembling slightly. He took a step back, his eyes roving over you, taking in the sight of your nakedness. You felt exposed, vulnerable and wanted to cover yourself. But Han was quick and reached out to your hands, “Don’t, you look beautiful” he assured. Your cheeks flushed with warmth at his words, and you let your hands fall down to your sides.

Without another word, he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the taut muscles of his chest. Han's hand found the curve of your waist, pulling you closer and placing his lips on yours. His kiss sent a thrill through every nerve ending of yours. You moaned into his mouth; the sound muffled by his eager lips.

As you kissed, Han's hand trailed down to the juncture of your thighs, his fingers finding the dampness that had been building. He teased you through the lace of your panties, the fabric already soaked with desire. Your legs trembled, and you had to lean against the makeup table to stay upright. The anticipation was unbearable, a delicious torment that made you ache for more.

With a low growl, Han hoisted you onto the table, your legs wrapping around his waist. The coolness of the countertop sent a jolt of pleasure through you. His hand found its way under the lace, his thumb circling your clit with a gentle but insistent pressure. You moaned, your head falling back as sensation overwhelmed you.

Han's other hand snaked up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking the sensitive peak as he continued to kiss you deeply. Your hips rocked against him, seeking more, needing more. He chuckled, against your skin as he bit gently at your neck. "So eager," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

He slid your panties aside, his finger slipping inside, stroking them with a slow, purposeful rhythm that had your eyes rolling back in your head. “Han” you moaned his name, the sound a desperate plea that he was all too happy to answer. His movements grew more urgent.

Your kisses grew sloppy with desire. Your nails dug into his back, urging him closer, deeper. You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach, the delicious pressure building with every stroke. You had never felt this good.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, your body begging for release. You didn’t care if anyone heard you. With a final, desperate cry, you shattered, your climax crashing over you like a wave. Han's name was a litany on your lips as you rode the waves of pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably. He held you through it, his fingers never stopping their sweet torment until your breathing evened out and your eyes focused on his once more.

Satisfaction and love shone in Han's gaze as he kissed you gently, his hand still buried between their legs, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. "That's just the appetizer," he murmured. “Unless you want me to stop”

You shook your head frantically and Han smirked. He stepped back, allowing you to catch your breath, and pulled you down from the table and stood on your shaky legs. The air was thick with anticipation as Han stood, his arousal pressing against his boxers. Your breath came in shallow gasps as you watched him reveal himself.

He stepped out of his own clothing, leaving you both bare in the soft glow of the room. Your eyes roamed over Han's body, admiring the way the light played over his muscles.

You reached out, fingertips brushing against his erection, and he hissed in a breath. The contact was like a spark, igniting the flames of passion once again. Han's hand shot out, grasping your wrist, and he leaned in, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of their neck. "Not yet," he whispered, his voice a dark rumble.

Guiding you to the velvet couch in the corner, Han pushed you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He laid down between your legs, his erection pressing on your thigh.

Han leaned down, capturing your mouth in a fiery kiss that left you toes curling. His hands roamed over your body, leaving a trail of fire. He took his time, savoring every inch of your skin as if it were

the sweetest dessert. His thumb found your clit again, his touch feather-light, teasing you back to the brink of madness.

Your hips bucked, desperate for more, and Han chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through your body. "Patience," he murmured, his eyes dark with lust.

Anticipation was exquisite. You reached down, your hand shaking slightly as you wrapped it around his cock, feeling the pulse of his desire against your palm.

Han groaned, his eyes falling closed for a brief moment before snapping open again. The fire in his gaze was intense. You stroked him slowly, savoring the feeling of his skin against yours. His hips rolled into your touch, his breathing growing harsher with every stroke.

With a growl, Han took control, pushing your hand away and positioning himself at your entrance. He paused, locking his eyes with yours. You nodded, the silent consent all he needed.

He slid into you with a slow, deliberate movement that had your eyes rolling back in your head. The stretch was heavenly, filling you completely, erasing any doubt or jealousy that had been there before. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him. Han's eyes never left yours as he began to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm.

Your hands roamed over his chest, nails scraping lightly over his skin as you moaned his name.

The sound of your lovemaking filled the room. Han's movements grew more urgent, his strokes deeper. You could feel the beginnings of another climax building, your body tightening around him.

Your breath grew ragged, your body moving in time with Han's, your hips rising to meet his every thrust. The feeling was indescribable, a whirlwind of pleasure. You felt your orgasm building, a tight coil of sensation in your core that grew tighter with every stroke.

Han's hands found yours, fingers lacing together. You could feel your walls tightening around him, the pressure building until it was almost unbearable. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the scream that threatened to escape as Han's thumb found your clit once more, applying just the right amount of pressure. With a final, powerful thrust, your orgasm hit you ike a tidal wave, crashing over you and leaving you gasping for air. Han groaned, his own climax following closely behind, his body shuddering with the force of it. You clung to each other, lost in the moment, as the waves of pleasure ebbed and flowed between you.

As you came down from your high, Han collapsed onto you, his weight a comforting warmth. You laid there, your breath mingling, hearts beating in sync. The room was quiet, only the club’s music could be heard behind the door.

Your mind was racing with the realization of what just happened. You stroked Han's hair, feeling the dampness of his sweat, the softness of his skin.

"Are you still jealous?" Han's voice was a gentle rumble, his question a soft caress against your ear.

You shook your head, smiling softly. "never heard of her," you murmured.

18 notes · View notes

chaoticdelinqueerwithglitter · 10 months

Text

Red Snow (KakuIza oneshot)

Wow, I can't believe I finally finished this!

This was actually sitting on my drafts for half a year. The idea came at me when I started wondering what if some characters start to slowly remember other timelines? And bam, KakuIza appeared to me. Tragic as always, but asking with puppy eyes if I could give them happiness (or show it, since technically the canon already did this). I had it all wrote except the last scene because apparently the angst comes easily at me (no surprises here, oops)

But Tenjiku being animated and knowing what we'll see in a few week... Yeah, I needed to end this and fix that mess.

(link to ao3 in case some one preferes to read it there)

Summary: Maybe the snow was the last tribute from heaven to this king who died too young trying to protect his servant. After that day, every time it snows, Kakucho couldn't do anything but look at the snow, the bloody red snow that seemed to be everywhere. Now, the red is gone. Izana is there. The snow makes Kakucho happy again.

Warnings: Manga Spoilers. Angst with happy ending (with a lot of angst before the happiness) and depressed Kakucho (who could blame him?)

Notes: This is canon compilant, from Kakucho's POV (so keep in mind that any opinion on another character is Kakucho's, not mine, I love them all). The italic parts are Kakucho's memories, I hope it makes sense how I organized, since it's not chronologically, it only makes sense emotionally. If saying this makes sense at all.

English is not my first language, so be nice please! :)

Kakucho has been wanting to see that smile for so long that he can't even remember when he started to miss it. Or maybe it's the excruciating pain in his shoulder, which doesn't allow him to remember properly. All that he knows is that suddenly it's here, a real smile on Izana's face, lighting everything up. He can't stop looking, even if some part of his brain detects all the chaos and screams around them, Kakucho only has eyes for him, for his king and this smile that it's making the world shine again for a few seconds.

He thinks his yelling, but he's unable to focus in anything other than Izana bleeding next to him, correcting his servant once more “Our era”. The king keeps talking to Mikey, but Kakucho doesn't know what he's saying anymore, the last words still hitting his brain, his ears, his whole body. “I'm sorry Kakucho, but you're all that I have”.

As Izana's hand begins to get colder his servant is still caught up in those words “All that I have”. So Kakucho close his eyes, more than willing to follow his king one last time. He's not going to left him alone, not now, not ever. The last coherent thoughts that cross his mind is that this is his fault, for wishing too much, wanting too much. He never would have wished to see Izana's real smile again if he had known the price.

He's still able to see the snow before everything goes dark (or feel, he's not sure of his own senses any more). It's ironic,they used to love the snow, now it seems like the universe is mocking on them. Or maybe it's not, maybe the snow is the last tribute from heaven to this king who died too young trying to protect his servant.

---------------------------------------

Kakucho wakes up in the hospital. The doctors say that he's going to recover, like that's good news. They are not, not for him. He survived, again. Nothing makes sense, he doesn't feel alive, so... How is it possible? He wants to die, he doesn't understand, his live is meaningless, just a servant. Kakucho hates himself for surviving, he should have died protecting his king, not the other way around.

None of this matters, his feelings are not important, he can't go back to being selfish, getting caught up in his own desires. He knows that he has to keep living, Izana died for him to live. 'Why? Why Izana? Why you never show how important I was to you when we still had time? Why did you leave me? Why am I the only one stuck with our regrets? Why?'

He needs to stop thinking, there is no point in doing so. Izana exchanged his own life for Kakucho's, so he knows he has to keep living. Even tough he is already dead.

---------------------------------------

Every time it snows, is the same. It doesn't matter if Izana is already in middle school, as soon as he sees the first flakes he starts running looking for Kakucho, ready to drag him under the snow again. It's a miracle how he's able to contain all this excitement until he finds his friend (his servant) when he's actually jumping trough the corridors.

Of course, Kakucho follows him, pretending to complain about the cold. He doesn't pretend too hard, it's not like he's even trying to hide his smile. Or like the cold matters, when Izana is still taking his hand while they keep running until being outside.

Kakucho didn't care about the snow before, now he loves it. Or maybe he loves how the older boy's face seems to glow when he smiles at it. He knows that Izana isn't exactly the happiest kid around, so he treasures every second when he can have his friend acting like this, without masks or titles between them. Just two friends playing in the snow.

They always play outside for hours, never bothered by the rest of the kids, probably too busy hiding inside the building from the cold. Kakucho thinks they are idiots, they don't know anything. For him, the snow is a reminder of that warm feeling inside him, that thing he felt the first time they played like this. It was almost freezing inside their igloo, but all the ice went away when Izana said those words “Our kingdom”. The younger kid doesn't understand why, he only knows that for a second he felt like the most important person on the entire planet ( besides Izana, of course ), the previous cold forgotten and replaced by warmth within his chest.

Suddenly, a snowball kicks him and he realizes that Izana has already started the fight. He was lost in his own thoughts, so obviously Izana is cheating. Again. He sighs and starts making his own ammunition. 'Some things never change, right?'

---------------------------------------

The world lost his color that day. Now everything looks gray, like if someone repainted it with a monochrome palette during the time that Kakucho was in the hospital. The apartment is worse, because he can still see where the colors are supposed to be, like a shadow from the past. He can still see the guitar by the window, where Izana used to play it. The tropical fish, now his only roommate.

It's a really small apartment, the only one that Izana could afford at that time, when he came back to the orphanage just for rescue him ( actually it was more an scape than a rescue, but they didn't care about that ). When his king went to juvie he promised that he wouldn't forget about Kakucho. And he didn't, because Izana never lied to him. 'He just kept too many things inside, but he never lied, how ironic is that?'

He didn't have time to miss the colors, because one day starts snowing. Kakucho was walking towards the convenience store when the first flakes began to fall. Suddenly he can't breathe, he can't move, he can't think. He can't do anything but look at the snow, the bloody red snow that's everywhere. 'Red. That's not supposed to be red. Why is the snow red? Where does all this blood come from? Fuck, fuck, fuck!'

Kakucho doesn't know how he manage to run until he's safely back home, safe from the memories that come true with every flake of snow. From that day on, he avoids going outside in the snow. So he stays in this apartment full of ghosts, the ghosts of colors, forever gone from his world. The ghost of Izana filling every corner, reminding him that he must keep living.

---------------------------------------

Apparently Izana made new friends in juvie. He doesn't know how he feels about it, but it's weird trying to imagine Izana making friends. Until his king explains how he made them. 'Oh, that checks.'

“Why are you doing this face? Are you jealous or what?”

Izana says that with a smirk in his face, his obviously teasing him but for some reason the younger boy still feel that something is off.

“Come on servant, don't be such a pain in the ass, I beat them for you, the least you can do is be grateful, don't you think?”

“For me?”

Kakucho doesn't understand what that is supposed to mean.

“Yeah, you're going to lead our army, remember? I wasn't going to let you lead an army of weaklings.”

And with that, he puts a hand on Kakucho's head, ruffling his hair on the process. An obvious sign that the conversation is over and, once again, his servant will follow him with a smile.

When Kakucho finally meets this new friends, he can only think that they're all idiots. Well, except for Mutto, he likes Mutto because he's calm and quiet, he always knows his place or when it's better to shut up. Shion is the complete opposite, he never knows when to shut up or stop moving. To be honest, Kakucho thinks that Shion probably can't do any of that. Mochi is just another idiot, with less energy than Shion, but the same amount of brains. The Haitani brothers are their own category. 'This two aren't just idiots. They are idiots and weirdos.'

Time passed and Kakucho still thinks the Haitanis are weirdos, but he actually likes having them around. They always show up with some expensive and extravagant gift, as if money is nothing to the rulers of Roppongi. Today they bring some delicious cakes, as always they remembered to buy a portion of Kakucho's favorite. He knows Ran is the one who paid attention to these tinny details, he can't help but act like a big brother.

But the cake is not the reason why Kakucho likes them. It's not the only reason, at least. No, Izana is the real reason. Every time the Haitani brothers are there the white haired boy looks happy. Of course, he doesn't show it, so sometimes he seems amused, entertained or even pissed off as if he's about to lose his already little patience. But Kakucho knows him better, he knows that Izana is happier when the weirdos are here. So before he realizes, the four of them are friends. Well, maybe one king and three friends.

---------------------------------------

It's being a few months since the Kanto Incident. He doesn't know how many, because time stopped making any kind of sense for Kakucho since his reason to live disappeared. He didn't realize how much time had past until one day when he hears an annoying knock at his door. A really annoying knock that doesn't go away forcing him to open the damn door.

Of course, when he opens the door, the Haitani brothers are there. He should had know, but he really wasn't aware that they were already out.

“Kakuchooooo, I know you missed me, so stop making that grumpy face and be a good host!”

Ran looks exactly the same, still talks like he's teasing at you with every word. After all that time, he still brings cake, Kakucho's favorite.

“Come one, let us in already, I was about to pick the lock.”

Yeah, that's Rindou's way of showing that he was worried. Still the same weirdos. So obviously, he lets them in.

Before he understands what's going on, he's sitting at the table with one brother at each side of him, eating cake and talking nonsense. And he's smiling, even laughing at times with their most absurd anecdotes. The scene is so familiar, so comfortable, it's almost like nothing has changed. 'Almost.'

Kakucho doesn't know what happened, but suddenly finds himself unable to breath. He tries, he really tries, because he doesn't want to break in front of anyone. But they aren't just anyone, they have cake and comfort words “Breathe, it's ok Kakucho, we know” and “We're here now, you are not alone anymore”.

So he breaks, he let himself cry in front of these weirdos that share his pain, his lost. In front of what's left of his family, what's left of all that happiness that he doesn't even remember how it felt. He doesn't realize that all this time he has been gripping his necklace, the one with a hanafuda image that they know all too well. The one that used to be one of Izana's earrings.

---------------------------------------

Kakucho would never know how they knew it. The Haitanis always seem to have a sixth sense or something, because they show up unannounced like they always did. The strange thing is that they seem to know that this time Izana is going to welcome them, without beatings or cruel words. They seem to sense that their king is starting to get better and he can't be more thankful, hoping that maybe this is what Izana needs.

He's not wrong, but he's also not right. Izana isn't quiet there most of the time, but at least he eats, talks and even has a smile sometimes. It's not he's real smile, his eyes don't show any emotions, it still looks unhinged. But even if it's a weird smile, he does it more when the brothers are there, so Kakucho thinks that's good. 'He just needs more time, that's all, this has to be a good sign, right? Yep, one day he will really smile again, I'm sure.'

Kakucho definitely likes having the Haitani brothers around. They are more than friends, they are family.

---------------------------------------

Kakucho didn't want to follow South, he only have one king and he will never betray him. He ends up in Rokuhara after that monster beats the shit out of him, but that doesn't mean his loyal to that gang. He put his life ( and his heart ) in the hands of another man a long time ago.

It's actually much easier than he expected, being back in this live, the fights, the adrenaline. Maybe that is all he knows how to do or maybe he doesn't even care anymore, but this makes him feel a little bit more alive than spending day after day hiding in his apartment with only ghosts and a fish for company.

It's different with Mikey and so familiar at the same time that he feels on edge. Every time that he's in a Kanto Manji meeting he has to control himself or he would freak out ( unconsciously grasping his necklace trying to calm down ).

Looking at Mikey gets him deja-vu. Really bad deja-vu, if he has to be honest.

The invincible is falling, Kakucho can see him fall into the darkness, exactly as he saw before. That's what scares him most, that he already learned how this ends. But he can't run away ( even if sometimes that's all that he wants ). Kakucho can't run away because he knows, he doesn't know how he knows, but he knows Izana wouldn't want him to leave Mikey. Or maybe he's just projecting, trying to fix the past by fixing the present.

“You can't save him.”

Of course he has been noticing the look in the older Haitani's face, he's obviously worried, but he didn't expect that. He wasn't prepared for that.

“What?”

“You can't save Mikey, not from himself. Stop it, you need to start thinking about what do you want for a while.”

There is more, things that Ran never says, but Kakucho listens anyway. The unspoken words keep floating around them 'You can't save him, the same way that you couldn't save Izana.'

---------------------------------------

At the beginning, Kakucho was happy of seeing Izana taking care of himself again. Starting to be open to people, to life, once more.

Now, he's just worried. Really worried. He realized that Izana's only motor is revenge, that he's getting really obsessed with Mikey. Izana is falling into darkness, a little bit more every day. His smiles are not real, his beautiful purple eyes never catch up with them. He looks deranged, completely unhinged every time that he starts talking about his revenge plans.

Kakucho knows that, but he'll follow him anyway. He'll follow Izana because he just wants to see him happy again and if this revenge is what it takes, he'll follow his king. Izana isn't drinking and sleeping all day anymore, so he hopes that maybe, he just needs time for smiling again. A real smile, like before. If Kakucho have to follow him to hell for being able to see this smile once more, he'll do it happily.

---------------------------------------

It's even worst the day that Rindou finally snaps, just before the battle with Toman 2nd Generation. They're alone, just trying to keep themselves entertained with some video game, trying very hard ( and failing ) not to think about tomorrow.

“Who do you think will die?”

It's just a whisper, so he wants to ignore it, pretending that he didn't hear it until he turns around and sees Rindou's face.

“No one, this time no one is going to die.”

He doesn't believe it, of course, not after watching how Mikey almost killed Takemichi of all people. But he's trying to comfort the other, and probably himself.

“You don't believe that, don't fuck with me!”

Then he realizes. Rindou fucking Haitani is panicking right now, he's having a panic attack and Kakucho doesn't know what to do. So he just keeps listening, hoping that helps. He's definitely not prepared for the next words.

“I... I've been having nightmares since that day, you know? What if... What if Ran tries to protect me like Izana did with you? What if... This time Ran... Shit, I can't even say it out loud, I'm fucking pathetic! But how am I supposed to keep living if that happen? How you keep living with that?”

Kakucho really, really doesn't want to answer that, but he's never seen the younger Haitani like this before, he knows he deserves an answer. He also knows that the only one he can give is not going to help.

“You don't.”

---------------------------------------

Kakucho is dying. He knows he is dying, he knows that Sanzu's katana cut is too deep, that there is no way that he could survive this time. He's okay with the idea of his own death, he always thought that the last two years were a cruel and extra time.

But he can't, he can't die yet. Kakucho needs to stop this damn train, he needs to do it or a lot more people is going to die. Not just people, his friends. Shion, Mochi, Takemichi. Not just people, his family. Ran. Rindou. The last survivors of the broken family they had once. The last two people in this whole planet that still remember Izana with affection. Kakucho can't let this happen, he can't let them die without trying until his last breath.

That's when he sees him. Izana.

Izana is here, Kakucho can feel him, he can feel his warm presence by his side once again. He doesn't even have time to think what's happening, when he listens Izana's voice.

“You're still as reckless as ever. Well, that's what makes you, you.”

Izana smiles and puts his hand in top of Kakucho's own hand. He can feel Izana's strength going through his body.

“I'll help you out, Kakucho.”

Just like that, they are able to stop the train. Together, like they always should be. They did it, they saved their family. And now, Kakucho is finally letting go, allowing himself to die. He's not afraid anymore, he's just happy that he could see Izana one last time. He's dying, but he's dying with a warm smile. Kakucho is finally reunited with the love of his live.

---------------------------------------

Kakucho never knew when he started to feel that for Izana. Maybe it was always there, maybe his feelings just changed and grew into something different at the same time that he was growing. But he could pinpoint without any doubt the exact moment when he realized that he was in love with his king.

The day that he saw him “better” again after Shinichiro's death. Izana just cut his hair and wanted to do a big entrance with his new Tenjiku's uniform. He was showing it to Kakucho, his arms opened and allowing him to see the whole view. His earrings dancing with him again every time he moved.

Kakucho knew it. Like and instant revelation, he felt that he just found the missing piece of a puzzle that he didn't even realized he was doing. Kakucho was doomed.

He wanted too much, he couldn't ask that from the older boy, but he still couldn't avoid it. He wouldn't ask, he'll keep following him until the end, just like always. He was sure that be by Izana's side will be enough. At that time, he thought this was the best decision, he still didn't knew that never confessing his feelings to Izana will be his last regret.

---------------------------------------

Kakucho opens his eyes, looking around and feeling completely disoriented. He's laying on a king size bed, the other side showing signs that some one was sleeping here too. He touches his chest, not understanding why there isn't a wound there. A scar, at least. But nothing.

Suddenly, he realizes that his necklace is not there. He's about to panic, thinking that he lost Izana's earring forever. Until he hears it, a soft voice calling his name. The sound of footsteps entering the room.

The scarred boy wants to punch himself, because this can't be. But he recognizes this voice, he would recognizes this particular footsteps anywhere.

“Kakucho? Are you awake or are you going to start acting like Ran and sleep forever?”

Izana enters the room, looking even more ethereal than ever. A smug face and playful tone. But he looks... Older. It's subtle, little details than some one who didn't know him as his servant does, wouldn't notice. But Kakucho does it. His king looks exactly like he kept growing up during the last two years.

“I-Izana? Are you real?”

Is just a whisper, he's too afraid that if he talks, he would break this illusion, this dream. But it's more than enough for Izana's face changes into one of worry, quickly sitting on the bed by Kakucho's side, a gentle hand on his forehead.

“Are you okay? You look sick... I can call Manjiro and tell him we can't go to the lunch this week.”

Izana's voice is so soft, his tone of concern so genuine, his warm hand on Kakucho's face so comforting... That he breaks. He starts crying like a little kid, hugging him, clinging onto him like his life depended on it (it does).

“Kakucho? Kakucho, look at me.”

A gentle touch on his chin forces him to look directly into Izana's eyes. An intense gaze staring directly at him, trying to analyze what the hell is happening. The hand moving softly to wipe his tears. But there's something in those violet eyes, something different. Like they had less walls, as if the usual storm that Kakucho always saw on them was calmer.

So, without even thinking about it, Kakucho just says the words. No more regrets.

"I love you, Izana.”

He whispers, before talking again, this time more firmly.

“I love you. So you can't die, because I love you. You have to promise to me that you'll not die."

Izana stares at him, a puzzled look on his face. 'Well, that's not the worst reaction ever, right?'

"I know that, idiot. We've been dating for almost a year now, you don't need to act so fucking intense about it. What the hell is wrong with you today?”

The words sound blunt, but there's so much affection behind them, that Kakucho just melts with it. Specially, when Izana ruffles his hair. A small gesture that says a lot more.

And that's when he finally gets it. This gesture, all the gentle touches, all the non-verbal things that his king is saying... They aren't new. It was always there. This was always Izana's love language. It was always there. But Kakucho never understood until now, because he never thought he deserved this love.

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, Izana.”

He answers, a bright smile on his face. Feeling lighter than ever. Of course, the older boy is not buying it, an interrogation look on his eyes. Kakucho just laughs at this, throwing his head like a little kid, unable to content so much happiness. So much life.

Until he looks through the windows and he sees it. It's starting to snow outside.

“It's snowing.”

Izana's whole expression changes with this words. His face lighting up with excitement. A genuine smile on it.

A real smile. One that makes Kakucho notices that this time, he can actually see the snow. The red is gone. Izana is there, holding his hand and smiling at him. Looking ethereal but at the same time, so real. So tangible. So alive.

The red is gone.

Izana is there.

The snow makes Kakucho happy again.

#me writing🌻#tokyo revengers #izana kurokawa #kakucho #kakuiza #s62 being a found family because i say so #haitani brothers #s62 generation #tokyo revengers fic #oneshot #tokyo revengers spoilers #in my tenjiku depression era #i blame tenjiku for the angst #i made myself cry #i broke my own heart #final timeline #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #canon compatible

20 notes · View notes