My Blood Is Fucking Up The Dancefloor.

Jouno Saigiku jolted- in a daze, he came to the realisation that somebody was calling his name. That was the problem with parties; the busy combination of throbbing music, excited chatter and the unavoidable stench of sweat that followed large groups of people anywhere would already be overpowering to anybody else, but with the addition of his heightened senses, it was absolutely unbearable, not to mention very distracting.

Really, though, the worst part by far was just how uneasy Jouno felt with his senses blocked by the wall of noise, entirely susceptible to an attack at any time. The very thought was enough to bring him to the brink of losing his composure and exiting the premises to regain control on the surroundings.

However, one thing kept him tethered to the spot he was in, clutching a glass of water as if it might escape at any time; and the aforementioned thing just so happened to be approaching Jouno, calling out his name so as to mark his presence to the former as, of course, he couldn't see him approaching. Tecchou Suehiro.

His reserved, yet silently scatterbrained business partner with little to no inhibitions, who yet somehow expertly conveyed a sense of nonchalance at all times despite this.

This made Tecchou rather eye-catching, even to complete strangers, despite his slight eccentricity in social situations- yet, in a bustling room of all but infinite options, he had now come to check on none other than Jouno: the infallible interrogator, reduced to a wallflower in the face of a large social gathering and visibly out of his depth.

Tecchou wavered, blanching a little at Jouno's grimace, but proceeded anyways,

“Would you like to dance with me?” He reached out a hand to accompany the line in vain, forgetting that Jouno couldn't see it, and thus retracted it again a little awkwardly.

Tecchou's worries were immediately proved to be unfounded, however- accompanied by a contemptuous scoff, incredulous of the situation he had found himself in, Jouno had already peeled himself away from the safety of social reclusion and taken the other's hand.

This might as well happen...

And thus, the blond had found himself directly confronted with his two worst fears at once; his unbelievably attractive co-worker, and his sappy and rather undignified feelings regarding said co-worker.

Somewhat awkwardly scrambling through a crowd of moving shapes, they found a spot away from the centre of attention just as a slower song hushed the chatter of the room.

Despite scarce actual experience, both managed surprisingly well, and- most likely due to agility gained from being Hunting Dogs for so long- the song fortunately came and went with nobody's feet being stepped on.

Punctuating a final flourish and breaking the focus between them both, Tecchou moved to place his hand on the back of Jouno's head. Certain that his heartbeat would be audible to anybody, superhuman senses or not, he still paused for just a moment as a silent request for permisson.

The shorter man's swift nod communicated a million feelings that couldn't possibly have been expressed over the top of the music; a language shared between just the two of them over the course of a single split-second.

As the gap closed between them, years' worth of yearning were present like they had never been before- a torrent of adoration in mere moments that may as well have lasted hours.

But as quickly as it had begun, they broke away hurriedly- neither person had wanted such a prized moment to be prolonged to the point of awkwardness.

Though, truthfully, a twinge of bittersweetness would have inevitably lingered either way, a reminder of the
(admittedly one-sided) nastiness of their rivalry during the day.

Despite that, the kiss was adrenaline-charged, leaving Tecchou a little dizzy and Jouno even more so.

Giddiness from adrenaline, catharsis and something the blond found hard to place, just out of reach and barricaded by his busy senses.

As if it had been willed into silence by his own thoughts, the noise in the room lulled- the only remaining sound one person's slow breathing.

One lone person's laboured breathing; accompanied by a steady, thick dripping and a welling, stabbing pain too sharp to ignore any longer.

Jouno sank to the ground slowly in an attempt to regain control on the surroundings, and failed: the blood was now falling quickly from his chest and arms, the clattering ambience of the room and Tecchou's steadfast heartbeat were long gone.

Were they ever there in the first place?

It didn't matter now. It was a struggle to even remain conscious. How long had Jouno been purposefully overlooking the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right, that there was something he had forgotten? It must have been almost ten minutes now.

Disillusioned and disjointed, he found himself struck by the coarse truth: he would have felt winded if not for the air already having been all but knocked out of him by the sword nestled deep into his chest.

Jouno was dying: left to bleed out on the cold floor deep within the airport; abandoned by his boss, the very man who had given him a job and a purpose. A fate of eternal radio silence awaited him. As much as Jouno knew he would never be able to bring himself to say a permanent farewell to Tecchou, that was all he wanted to do. To leave him without uncertainty, as a parting gift.

Perhaps if he had another chance, he could fix his regrets; take less for granted. With that, Jouno died unlike he lived- with a small, yet genuine smile.