Fukari [Yaoi]

Fukari

Love Is A Tricky Thing.

Fukari stumbled back as the eyes of the crowd watched him. His hands trembled and his heart pounded painfully. When did this kind of thing become a show?

He spared a look at everyone who'd gathered. There'd been no shouting to draw them. He wasn't even sure that Mikio knew them, or they knew him. Fukari clenched his fists; he flared with embarrassment. They looked at him as though he were something unclean. The smiles on their faces were the twisted looks of evil people, who liked watching the weak squirm and suffer. Their eyes glinted with malcontent, with the look of someone who wanted to destroy you from the inside out and then the outside in; one way would not be sufficient.

“You’re disgusting.”

The words ripped through him like a knife through butter. His heart pounded to the point it shattered.  Just those two words, and his world went crumbling before him. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

He bowed his head, locking his honey coloured eyes on his feet, his toes that turned into each other, and his ankles that shook. The feeling of heartbreak was all too familiar: it accompanied the pain of loss, the pain of longing, and the pain of making a fool of himself.

And yet I let myself get caught in all this again.

Mikio wasn’t done ridiculing him. “You’re a disgrace.”

Fukari’s fists clenched around the hem of his shirt. “Why?” He looked up at them all, anger and sadness held in his intoxicating gaze. “Why?”

Mikio portrayed nothing but disgust for him, and it hurt most to look upon it with his own eyes. “It’s unnatural,” Mikio said, as if that was an explanation.

Fukari unclenched and clenched his fists. “What’s so unnatural about us?” His arms shaking. “You…you said—!”

“Look, Fukari. You’re a guy and I’m a guy. Unnatural.” There was a look of hatred in the blonde’s eyes, a snarl planted on his face.