streetwalkers | COLLEGE AU MASTER POST

[Even with Kirei's hand clapped over his mouth, Gilgamesh insists on purring out words out of approval, muffled but undoubtedly satisfied. He's quite proud of what he's nudged Kirei into, enough to be more patient and charitable than he's normally capable of. Anyone else would have been flipped and fucked by now; Kirei is special, something that Gilgamesh wants to savor]

[He leans in, burying his face in Takaya's shoulder as best he can.]

Even if someone else gets hurts instead...?

[He sighs into Diarmuid's shoulder, pausing to mull over all the words jumbled up in his head]

's that something I can fix? You just gotta tell me, you know, and I'd--

[What would he do? Cu can't really put it all into words because the anger, the frustration, the heartbreak -- he figures he can't understand what it's like entirely, but it gets reflected back onto him, and he imagines that he can feel it a little. He might not have realized it entirely in the happy, quiet moments he and Diarmuid have spent together, but the other man is such a part of him, someone he cares so deeply about that it's because second nature. He can't feel it entirely, and he figures as much, but it hurts enough to make him want to risk anything and everything to make it go away for the both of them]

Fuck...I'd do anything to fix it. Anything.

I don't know.

[He'd like it if Cu could fix it, too. He'd like it if all of the problems could be neatly bound up and packaged and dealt with in a single simple solution. But it isn't like that. There are issues upon issues, a million pains and worries and terrible memories that tangle up and tendril out into almost every aspect of Diarmuid's life. Trying to get the in order is harder than controlling a herd of cats, and sometimes he despairs of ever being consistently happy again.

Cu is a big help just by being there, of course. Their good times are the best in D's recent memory, and the other man has become essential to keeping him going. Right now, though, even that feels a little bleak. He's at emotional rock bottom in this moment, and it shows in how he refuses to return Cu's physical affection the way he usually does. He's just withdrawing, curling til he's as small as possible and beginning to pull his weight away from his lover's shoulder and back to himself.]

I don't know if anything can fix it. Even if you say it's not my fault -- that doesn't make sense. It wouldn't keep happening if it wasn't anything to do with me. And since I don't know what it is I can't stop it, so it'll just keep happening.

I've tried really hard to do well by everyone, but I can't. I can't do it anymore. It hurts too much.

[He doesn't have to hear the words to hear the tone. It's making his heart race, and overriding the part of him still insisting he stop here. After a deep breath, and without making eye contact, he finally slips his hand into Gil's underwear and gets to work. At the least he knows how to use his hand -- he's not that pious.]

...I can't give you answers when I don't know anything. Just tell me. We can figure something out.

[And in the meantime he'll just turn his frustrated grip into a gentler embrace. Even with the smell of illness and the emotional turmoil, it just feels more natural to be physically close like this.]

[He laughs as Kirei finally touches him just so. Gilgamesh will call the moment he felt pleasure at the hands of Kotomine Kirei a resounding victory. He'll smile as Kirei strokes his cock, and gently circles his hand around Kirei's wrist, guiding his hand.]

[The help is appreciated -- and needed. Doing for himself isn't the same as doing for someone else, especially when he's feeling so awkward and nervous about the whole thing. He's not sure how to move forward either. Maybe Gil will go away if he does this much.]

[It's funny, how time always seems to fly when you're happy and drag when you're not. The year that Diarmuid and Cu spent together as roommates and then lovers wasn't without its bad spots, but overall it was easily the happiest time of D's life. He'd loved and been loved before, but nothing could begin to compare to the way being with Cu made his heart sing and his whole life fall into place. With Cu, he felt truly home. It seemed like no time at all before the school year was over and summer was settling in.

That made it all the more jarring when things went off. The first wedge was Cu's decision to move to the west coast in pursuit of good graduate work. He'd be back eventually, of course, and after wrapping up his senior year, Diarmuid could easily follow him. But it meant a year of being long-distance, and it would have been a lie to say that D'd level of emotional dependence was healthy enough for that. The thought of being left behind in a place shared with the same people who'd pushed him to the edge in the first place made him panic intensely no matter how hard he tried to be supportive and hide it. Even knowing he had friends there too, it felt like he was going to be left to tread water without the rock he'd been so tightly clinging to. He did try to keep it to himself, but it couldn't be entirely dismissed, and the closer it came to the date of Cu's departure the more Diarmuid wanted to latch on and keep him from going at all.

Perhaps he'd gotten clingier despite himself. Perhaps he'd been too obvious, too full of nervous energy. There could have been any number of cues, but in the end they must have built up to something unbearably annoying. The day before the flight, when he came back from his evening class to see the last traces of Cu packed away, his nerves were running even higher -- and finally something blew.

He doesn't remember now what started it. He doesn't remember what they were really fighting over. He just remembers what he said (Cu was too flippant, he didn't understand anyone else's feelings, it wasn't right to be able to walk away so easily), what Cu said (D was too needy, he was stifling to deal with, he didn't have the spine to man up and deal with his problems), and how it ended: with Cu taking his last suitcase to the car and driving off in a squeal of tires and one last "fuck you".

Afterwards, the mutual insults hung in the air, fouling it and making it heavy. There'd been a lot of more biting, unfair and cruel things said by both of them once they'd gotten angry. It felt, to Diarmuid, like a massive betrayal -- Cu knew better than anyone how hard he'd worked just to get better as much as he had. Cu knew it wasn't so easy -- and yet he'd walked out like he had no intention of ever coming back. He'd left it on a foul note, and so when he started to call after a day or two, D refused to answer. It was just another attachment gone wrong, and just as Cu'd taught him, the best way to deal with that was not to let someone keep hurting him if he didn't have to.

It was two weeks before the daily calls stopped coming, and the rest of a month before he realised how stupid it all was. Cu was right. He needed to learn to walk on his own two feet, not expect someone else to carry him forever. He'd never get better if he didn't move forward by his own strength. It hadn't been fair to expect to be overcoddled, and it hadn't been fair to act like Cu was heartless for expecting him to be able to function like a normal person for a few months. Of course, after this long Cu was probably glad to be done with it. It was as good as over, and it was probably better that way. He'd just have to be an adult and admit his own faults and the faults of others. He'd have to stop letting himself be blind to things not going his way until they exploded. Cu didn't deserve to put up with all of his mess anyway. He'd already done more than anyone could ever be asked for.

And so Diarmuid never called back. A single fight turned into a permanent distance, and he set his sights on trudging forward, finishing school, and succeeding at something all by himself, without following someone else's lead. Of course, that didn't make his feelings stop. It didn't make him stop missing Cu, loving him and longing for him. It just meant he shut it down -- and he shut down any attempt to connect to other people, too. It was better to keep a distance, since getting attached always ended so badly. He shouldn't put anyone else through that kind of trouble on account of him.

It was noticable to those close to him, of course. The cheerful, often teasing friendliness he'd exhibited in the last year evaporated, replaced by something akin to the sad and quiet politeness of his time with Kayneth. It wasn't quite the same, of course. He was less jumpy, less prone to reacting fearfully to things. He wasn't on edge -- he was listless. Instead of looking harried, he just looked empty and wistful, and the change stuck out like a sore thumb to anyone who'd ever spent much time with him. Even Gilgamesh noticed (and complained -- he wasn't as fun when he just shrugged about being harrassed and allowed it to happen). At first, the rest of them thought it'd get better. Arturia and Oscar continued to hang around with him, and Archer kept contact despite being busy with his own post-graduating life. They figured the bad mood couldn't last, but it did. And when Oscar took advantage of his being single to (finally!) ask him out, the source became clear. He said yes, but the following few weeks were as if nothing had been decided on at all. He'd gained rights to sex, but unless distracted by physical relations or by the occasional night of drinking, Diarmuid remained distant and disinterested. Then one evening, after a few too many drinks, Oscar had found him curled up on the floor of the bar's bathroom, crying into his knees.

It only took a few questions to uncover all the hopeless depression he'd been hiding behind the listlessly calm exterior. After that, their "relationship" was gone, and Oscar began to openly declare his hatred for Cu. How could someone have something as good as they'd had and leave it? How could someone be given the heart Oscar had been chasing after his whole life and so carelessly break it? He wanted to punch Cu in the face -- but D just wanted him to come home. But it wouldn't be fair to ask it, so he never did. He just kept going, completely unaware that Arturia had started dropping not-so-subtle comments in her emails to Cu, and finally the school year was over.

After graduation, Diarmuid had originally planned to stay in the US with his friends. Now, he has no drive to do so. There are too many memories, and somehow he feels that the farther he gets from Cu and everything and everyone that reminds him of him the easier it will be to forget him and move on. So he decides to go back to Ireland, to help his father with his work and otherwise keep to himself.

It's a few days before he leaves that Arturia picks up the phone and calls Cu. She tries to explain how bad it's been. She tries to get across how lifeless D's become, and how afraid she is that he's just going to make himself disappear somehow. She tries to convince him that if he'd just come back and stop him, maybe it'd be okay. That Diarmuid still loves Cu, and that it's worth it to take a chance on saving something that had made them both so happy.

But D doesn't know about it at all, so now it's time to go, and he's shoving the last of his bags into his car. He's already boxed everything up that needs to be mailed and left instructions with Arturia to send it, and sold everything not worth keeping. This is the last time he intends to see this place, and he doesn't really want goodbyes. He wants to fade out of all of their lives and forget these years never happened. But more deeply, he wants a reason not to. He wants to stop hurting, and he wishes with every ounce of his being that Cu would get the sudden urge to call him and make it better. It won't ever happen, and it shouldn't ever happen -- but somehow it's still hard not to wish as he drags the final suitcase from the front door of the apartment building to the trunk and fumbles for his keys.]

[It wasn't like leaving was easy.

Not at first, at least. Not when he'd been offered money to go to school on the west coast. It was one of those mildly surprising turns of fortune, because while he looked and acted thickheaded most of the time, Cu knew his way around formulas and charts and fish more naturally than most. He never thought about it much, and when the letters first showed up, he almost threw them away because he didn't want to muster the effort to figure out how things would go with a whole country between him and Diarmuid. It was easier to bum around spend the day on the local docks.

That's what he told Ferdia in one of those rare moments where he was online while Ferdia was mooching wifi from a coffee shop between sets. As older siblings are wont to do, Ferdia told Cu he was being a stupid dick, and who the fuck throws away free money and shit when it's just handed to you, and it's not like shit like the internet and airplanes and whatever didn't exist you stupid douchefuck.

Ferdia's an artist. Ferdia has a way with words. Especially the profane ones.

Ultimately Cu dug the letters out from his backpack and stared at them and after a while, everything those crumpled pieces of paper offered began to sound like something good. It took a lot of effort to remember the good when he finally broke the news to Diarmuid, especially when the sad, distant look on his face made Cu want to take everything back and laugh it all off like some dumb joke.

Maybe he let himself feel too guilty. Maybe that's why he began to feel like Diarmuid was being too needy and too absorbed in his own needs. It was something that Cu barely kept at bay, right up until the moment everything exploded in his face. He felt horrible when they first started yelling at one another, but the more he vented, the more he let the adrenaline and the frustration tell him that this was his chance to find the space and the freedom that he'd quietly begun to miss. By the time he threw his suitcase in the car and slammed the door, he'd convinced himself there wasn't any reason look back and regret anything.

The drive to the airport was a blur; the following days and weeks doubly so. He thought he was relieved at first, but the fast descent into more guilt, more anger, and more regret and uncertainty left him reeling. Looking back, he doesn't recall anything but the feeling of his fingers gripping his phone too tight, and the sound of the phone ringing on and on, unanswered.

He surrendered then, half to the fact that he'd fucked up something good, half to the fact that perhaps it was better off that way. The acknowledgement didn't make him feel much better, and without closure he settled into his new day-to-day mired in a sense of regret that he'd never cared enough to feel before. Irritable and unfocused, he drifted from class to class and from girl to girl with only a faint inkling as to what was really wrong with him.

The emails and texts were annoying at first, nothing more. After all, messages from Archer that read "stop being a jackass" or "you're just stupid as hell" weren't all that rare. As far as Cu was concerned, Archer was just as much of a jackass, and Arturia was overbearing, and mostly he just wanted to be left alone to his fish and his cigarettes and his sulking. May arrived without the stifling humidity of the east coast, and something about all the posters around campus reminding seniors to return their library books and finish their graduation paperwork made Cu think that if things had been a little different, he'd be going back east to see Diarmuid.

The thought punches him in the gut more than he expected, and perhaps it was another rare stroke of good fortune that Arturia chose that day to call. Cu's first instinct is to wave it all off and tell her that he's still over it, and that Diarmuid should try getting over it too.

What no one knew was that after he hung up, he kicked over a desk in the library, threw his phone at the wall, and stomped off to go pack a bag and buy a plane ticket.

By the time he pulls up to Diarmuid's apartment in the tiniest, junkiest rental car he could get his hands on, he's still not sure what the fuck he's doing. Cu sits in the car, watches Diarmuid close the front door behind him, and wonders if it's good enough closure, letting him drive off and then going home.

He almost wants to. He can't think of anything that he could say; there are no words in his head, only screaming, but the more he imagines it, the more pissed off he feels until finally he finds himself sliding out of the car and taking a few steps towards Diarmuid]

...hey.

Edited 2012-08-14 07:03 (UTC)

[There's definitely something different about Diarmuid now. A spark snuffed out, a weary disheveled look to contradict the neat and tidy way he used to carry himself. He doesn't look well -- he's emotionally and physically neglected himself for a year, and truth be told he seems like a wispy ghost of himself. None of the vibrant personality and honest strength he had before is showing. He's as worn out and lethargic as Arturia told Cu he was, and he sighs heavily as he reaches up to close the trunk.

He doesn't pay any attention to the sound of someone getting out of the car behind him. He doesn't even give it a glance, so hearing Cu's voice makes him jump and whirl around with his face as white as a sheet. For a moment, he's too stunned to speak. There are a million emotions welling up, and he has no idea how to process any of them. He's happy -- he missed Cu so badly that just seeing him makes Diarmuid's heart rise. But he's afraid -- why is he here? Is it going to be another fight? He doesn't think he could take that, and Cu didn't warn him at all...

For now he just stares in silence, looking as if he's seen a ghost.]

[Cu's been wound too tight for a year now, and he hadn't realized it until now. Now he can feel something slowly coming undone inside of him, unraveling all that sadness and regret that he'd kept pent up inside. He'd been tense and venting it all by snapping, but right now, in front of Diarmuid, he feels like he doesn't have the energy to do much but collapse against him.

Of course, it's far too soon for anything like that, so instead he kicks at a pebble on the asphalt, hands shoved into his pockets.]

Arturia said you were going back to Ireland. Guess I wanted to see you again before that...

[A shrug, a nervous one, because suddenly he thinks that maybe Arturia had it wrong, and maybe he's just making things worse by showing up again]

I... yeah...

[He barely get the words out, soft and hesitant. Once emotion hits his face it's something painful, sad and scared and conflicted. Part of him wants to run right to Cu's arms and refuse to let go. He wants to say he's sorry, beg and plead and offer anything in the world just to have Cu take him back. But the rest of him is sure that isn't fair, and that this is just closure and a last goodbye. He probably won't be able to hold Cu ever again. Just giving him a chance to say goodbye is more than he deserves, honestly.]

Uhm... I probably won't come back, so I guess-- this is really--

[He can't say "this is goodbye". It should be, but it's entirely too hard to accept, so after a few stumbling stutters his voice cracks, and he gives up and drops his face into his hands. He doesn't want to be seen starting to cry, but the only way he can describe what he's feeling right now is to say it feels like he's dying.]

[When Diarmuid cried before, it was second nature for Cu to hold him close and hope that his presence or a dumb remark would be enough to make things a little more bearable. Now he's not sure what to do, or what he's allowed to do, and just standing there wishing he could do something is enough to make Cu feel the weight of everything he's lost.

Eventually he speaks up, trying to keep his voice soft and even.]

You shouldn't leave if it's going to make you cry.

[Hearing that only makes the tears come faster. He's not sure what he's supposed to do right now. Leaving was supposed to get him over Cu, but he can't imagine even beginning to forget him when he's standing right there. Suddenly he thinks there's no point in trying. It's not something he's ever going to get past, that much he's sure of.

That tone of voice just makes it worse. Cu's gentle voice has been something special for quite some time, and it doesn't seem fair to hear it now when sorting things out seems so far away. It's just a taste of the comfort he really needs but doesn't think he deserves, and after a few moments of trying not to get beyond tearing up the despairing feeling wins out. Just like he's done many times before, he collapses all at once, legs going out from under him as he falls apart into heartbroken sobs.]

I'm so sorry. It's all my fault...

[Diarmuid's legs crumble, and Cu just gives up trying to hold it all back. Maybe it's selfish to assume when Diarmuid's crying right in front of him, but he can't just watch or else he'll just feel sick, hollowed out. There's a space that he needs to fill, even if it's his fault it was emptied out in the first place.

He sinks to his knees and pulls Diarmuid into his lap, holding on tight because he doesn't care who's fault it was, as long as Diarmuid doesn't leave now]

It's okay...I'm not mad.

[The moment Cu's arms are around him, something snaps inside of Diarmuid. Some tension he's been under for a year suddenly releases, and he clings as tightly as he can with no regard for the possibility of rejection. All the loneliness he's been trying to keep in for so long is pouring out, and he won't let go now unless he's forced to.]

I thought I'd never see you again. I missed you... why are you here now?

Man, I wish I knew...guess I just wanted to see you all of a sudden.

[He's fine where they are now, sitting on the asphalt holding on to each other. For the first time in ages, even though he still hurts, Cu feels something close to normal again.]

I thought you'd hate me... You should hate me. I know I'm insufferable, but-- Look, I can't even look at you without losing it.

[He's been running this circle of logic long enough that it sounds reasonable to him now. It doesn't even occur to him that maybe they were both wrong, or that Cu wanting to see him could actually mean he wants to continue to see him. Internalized for long enough, "sense" has been removed and only irrational self-doubt remains.]

I'm sorry. I don't want to hold you back, I really don't. You must be really happy getting to do what you're good at, so it's okay. I get it. No one wants to come home to a mess every day. B-But... being without you is so lonely.... That's why I'm going, because-- If I can't forget you, I can just go somewhere where you won't have to think about me anymore.

But you know...

Uh.

[He bites his lip. Wow there's no way this isn't going to come out sounding stupid]

I can't really stop thinking about you.

[It takes a moment for that to register. When it does, he freezes for a moment, then pulls back to give Cu a questioning look, eyes puffy and red and tears still all over his face. He's telling himself not to get his hopes up, but it's blatantly visible on his face how much he wants to hear it's okay, and how scared he is that it's not.]

[He knows that expression well -- that fear's never been directed entirely at him, of course, but, well, he knows there's nothing for Diarmuid to fear.

He leans in and gives him a soft peck on the forehead]

[He very nearly bursts into tears again. The relief is like a dam breaking, and a huge amount of tension drains out of him almost immediately. The feeling is phenomenal, and in fact too much so to cry about. Instead he lets out a small noise of pure, unrestrained joy, and flings his arms around Cu's neck. It's almost hard to breathe, and his hides his big, beaming smile against Cu's ear, muttering "I love you"s like he's trying to make up for all the lost time.]

Edited 2012-08-16 07:46 (UTC)

[He feels like he's surfacing for air for the first time in months. A pressure is lifted from him, and all at once he realizes that he can finally breathe again. He's grateful beyond all words, knowing that Diarmuid could figure him out without words, and without question.

And he laughs as Diarmuid's breath tickles his neck, and laughs because he hasn't in ages and realizes how ridiculous that it. It doesn't matter who was wrong or who did what or why it happened right now -- Cu could care about anything else, save the words "I love you" echoing in his mind]

Love you, too.

It's been so awful.

[He says it rushed, quiet, and full of happy energy. It's not really complaining -- he just can't help trying to express exactly how much he's needed Cu all this time.]

What with Gilgamesh and Oscar and that horrible lemonheaded prick and seeing you everywhere and it was just-- I kept dreaming of you and having to wake up, and I--

[He's going on and he knows it, so he just stops, takes Cu's face in his hands, and kisses him with much more enthusiasm than his usual reserved manner. When they have to break for air, he continues while still breathless.]

Don't you ever leave me again, you stupid oaf.

COLLEGE AU MASTER POST

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BABBIES...

Re: BABBIES...

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