#akaran

Tav wakes first, long before first light, bright and alert. She and Karlach have twisted themselves half-way out from under the covers in the night to cool down, and as she extracts herself Karlach rousts, sleepily following Tav out of bed by habit. Tav goes to the window, Karlach rubbing her eyes and scratching various morning itches behind her. It is not only dark from the hour, but the blizzard has continued through the night, and the wind and snow still howl and blow. “’s still snowing?” says Karlach, yawning. “Looks like. If it keeps up like this we’ll be thoroughly snowed in.” “Mmm, I don’t mind that” Karlach says, as she stands behind Tav, wrapping her arms around her waist and kissing her neck and shoulder with sleepy affection. Tav affectionately strokes her cheek, “you can go back to bed if you like.” “Nn-nn” Karlach mumbles into Tav’s shoulder “wanna be up with you.” “Alright, I’m going to stretch, then we can get a bath” Tav says, kissing Karlach on the cheek, making Karlach shake herself all over in sleepy, giddy affection.

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Akashi Takeomi had never really been one for interior decorating.

Paintings and art, fancy rugs and drapery and expensive throws…not really his thing. They just reminded him of when he focused more on material things and money than the people who should’ve been important to him. On occasion, he found himself tempted by the lifestyle he had earned by subjecting himself to this life in the underground, but decided it wasn’t worth it if he couldn’t enjoy it.

Sentimental photos… memorabilia from jobs well done… Not really his favorite either. Just further reminders of mistakes he had made in the past. Those mistakes that he couldn’t take back, and did his best to ignore and forget when he could.

As a result of his distaste for throwing away his money and the bitterness of sentimentality, the lowkey one bedroom apartment he kept for himself was relatively bare for the longest time. Only the necessities… and maybe even lacking that if he was being honest.

“Minimalist” was what Kokonoi called it once when he visited Takeomi with a stack of papers that needed review prior to the executive meeting that night. “Minimalist and boring. Just like you, Akashi.”

Minimalist and boring he could handle. It was better than gaudy and cluttered and over stimulating like some of his colleague’s residences were. And it was clean, unlike his brother’s.

What did it matter anyway? He was rarely there for long. Maybe a quick shower, a sleep in his own bed if he was lucky.

Typically, there wasn’t even any food in his refrigerator because he spent so little time there. No ingredients in the cabinets to make a quick dinner. Not even a pack of instant ramen that he could heat up in an emergency.

The only thing resembling something edible in his kitchen was a brand of coffee that Takeomi didn’t drink, and a small carton of cream that would have been spoiled by now if Takeomi had bought it for himself.

The remnants of someone else who regularly found it appropriate to invade his space, and make it his own regardless of Akashi’s frequent, yet quickly lessening protestations.

The person who made his once drab and dull apartment a little bit more lively each time he came over, leaving bits and pieces of himself behind. Small little flashes of color and gold that were so different from the browns and blacks and greys that Takeomi placed there himself.

He had made the place more liveable and warm. A little bit more like home, rather than just a place to lay his head.

The first time Haitani Ran had entered his home, it was for a reason that was less than innocent. Takeomi had been disgusted with himself for a few hours after the younger man left, a smirk on his face and his shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his torso so that Takeomi could see that tattoo one more time. Takeomi was sure he had just fallen victim to some mischievous bet Ran had placed with his younger brother - who can get the old grump Akashi to break down and into bed first - but other than the lingering feeling of being used and a pounding hangover headache, Takeomi was not overtly disappointed.

He almost enjoyed himself, and found himself wishing Ran had stayed longer, making more of a dent in his bed and leaving more of a mark on his life than he already had.

The first night Ran spent with him, he hadn’t left a trace of his presence in the things that he left behind. Rather, it was the things he had taken from Takeomi that left much more of an impact.

His shampoo, once a full bottle, was halfway lighter, and Takeomi just rolled his eyes at the asshole who had little more hair than him. Had Ran poured half the bottle down the drain or onto his head, Takeomi never asked, but it was just the sort of petty nonsense he had grown to expect from the younger man.

His razor that he decided to throw away, studded with light blonde hairs that Takeomi hoped had only been pulled down Ran’s cheeks.

And his cigarettes. That asshole really took the rest of his pack and left him with a dead lighter and a scrap of paper with a smiley face drawn on to it. Takeomi hadn’t even known that Ran smoked. Maybe he didn’t, and he just took the pack back to his brother like some sort of trophy.

He had never outright hated the elder Haitani and his younger brother, only ever been wary of them. Unsure if they could be trusted, or if there was an ulterior motive behind those violet eyes. Takeomi knew that Ran especially held himself above others. He carried himself in a way that implied he was superior, and Takeomi had respected that, keeping his distance unless work required him to do otherwise.

So it was always quite a surprise to find Ran in his home. In his bed, more often than not.

Ran sought him out, finding ways into his home that would likely have warranted a call to the police if they had been anyone else other than who they were. Takeomi had complained at first, because it was mandatory when an unwanted guest broke into your home.

But, each subsequent time, Takeomi complained a bit less. Each time, Ran stayed a bit longer.

Each time he came home, Takeomi found himself hoping that Ran was not far behind him. If he was lucky, Ran would already be there, wrapped up in the new sheets he had so graciously gifted Takeomi when his old ones just didn’t suit Ran anymore.

Takeomi wondered aloud one night what this thing between them was. What it meant, if it meant anything at all.

Ran had silenced him with a kiss, pulling him in slowly, his teeth nipping at Takeomi’s lower lip. When Ran leaned away, Takeomi felt dizzy, mind swimming with visions of the beautiful man in front of him. Ran always kissed him so thoroughly, making sure that when they came up for air, all Takeomi could focus on was him.

Ran told Takeomi to not ask silly questions. Those were questions for teenagers and people who had the leisure to care about such silly things.

Ran told Takeomi that he should already know what this was. What they were. Because surely, they were a they.

Unlabeled beyond that, and that was what Takeomi had to be satisfied with. They were moving at Ran’s pace, by his rules.

Takeomi could not complain.

Ran was always unhurried. He always took his time, especially when he knew Takeomi was watching him. He lingered, taking his time to wake up in the morning. He used to leave in the night, departing when Takeomi was asleep or when he got bored, but more and more frequently, Takeomi awoke to long fingers tracing the slope of his nose… across the scar on his face… down the line of his throat…

Takeomi felt incredibly vulnerable when he was being surveyed by those sleepy eyes.

But he also felt as if he was allowed to be. For the first time in a long while he could let his guard down just the slightest bit, even if that meant putting himself at risk of being absolutely eviscerated by Ran’s sharp words.

But nothing hurt when he allowed himself to relax around Ran. Other than a few playful jabs that may have cut him in his younger years, Ran avoided being outright cruel unless he was teasing Takeomi about the raw emotions he saw in his eyes.

Emotions that were mirrored in Ran’s touch, in the looks he gave Takeomi when the lights were out but they were still close enough to each other to be seen.

Sometimes Takeomi wishes it was easier to share the feelings that were developing in his mind, but that was impossible with someone like Ran who never shared in full honesty what he was thinking. For now, with what they have, Takeomi agreed that those thoughts didn’t need to be communicated with words.

Maybe, it never would be said plainly. Takeomi thought that maybe that would be okay.

Despite their lack of pretty words, Takeomi couldn’t help but think that this would be so much easier if they were simple. If only they could blend their two lives into one like normal people did.

If they didn’t have to hide this from their brothers, or from the people who likely would have been their friends if they could trust them with their whole hearts.

But for now and for forever, this would be fine. It was much better than not having pieces of Ran in his life at all.

Ran slowly, secretly began leaving pieces of himself behind every time he stopped by. It was as if he was shedding bits of himself deliberately, leaving proof for Takeomi to find that he had indeed been there. The first pieces almost felt intentional, as if Ran was giving himself an excuse to come back to retrieve them, casually “forgetting” them anyway each time he departed.

The first evidence Ran left behind were a pair of cufflinks. Small and dainty and gold, taken from the suit Ran had been wearing the day before. Left on the stand beside Takeomi’s bed, Ran had departed that day with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Takeomi reminded him they were there the next time he spent the night, but Ran had only laughed.

“Do you not like them? Keep them here for me, would you?”

Pieces of his suits were next. A tie tossed to the side of Takeomi’s bed (after he had refused to let Ran bind his hands with it). A jacket left on the back of a chair in his kitchen, left behind when the morning they woke to was much too hot to don a suit jacket again.

Keep them here for me was what he always said. Takeomi hung the jacket in his closet next to his own, and hung the tie with his blacks and blues.

Such a stark contrast the vivid colors of Ran’s wardrobe made against the dark, muted colors of Takeomi’s own. The sight had made him smile a bit, before he caught himself and slid the door shut.

That contrast though…it came to describe Ran’s presence in his life oh so perfectly. A pop of color, a moment of warmth and laughter that Takeomi could not share with anyone else. Takeomi realized that Ran was not quite as scary as he seemed (though still quite terrifying), but Takeomi never stopped wondering why Ran chose to share the brightness of his personality with someone as “minimalist and boring” as Takeomi.

Shampoos and soaps that smelled like Ran were the next to invade Takeomi’s home. He learned through shared showers that Ran had used the same brand since he was 14 and was trying to regrow his hair after shaving it off during his first stint in baby jail. Takeomi felt strangely warm knowing that despite only spending time with Ran at this age, he could imagine exactly what it would feel like, and smell like, to run his fingers through Ran’s hair when it was still long.

The scent of Ran’s shampoo had lingered in Takeomi’s hair all day, and Ran had fussed the next time he came over and found out Takeomi had been using it without him.

But that wicked grin that spread across Ran’s face was worth it, and Takeomi knew that he knew.

“You missed me,” Ran had accused, sliding into Takeomi’s personal space, his chest bumping against Takeomi’s.

He could do nothing else but admit it. He had been caught red handed falling in love with someone like Ran.

“How could I not?”

He always missed Ran when they were apart, he was no longer embarrassed to say. Ran had grown into something to look forward to. Something to come home for. Ran made him feel a little bit more like a person, and less like a robot that worked day in and day out to accomplish the goals of another person.

For once, Takeomi even thought that maybe he finally had his own goal. Maybe even some hopes and dreams had popped up, but he didn’t take much stock in things he could not control.

The goal though, he could control. And it was such a simple one. To keep Ran coming back every night that he could, every night that they wouldn’t be missed, so that they could revel in the feelings that were too dangerous to share, and swap messy kisses underneath blankets and behind closed blinds.

So Takeomi did not complain when more things started to pop up in his home without his permission. A fancy coffee maker and grinder that Takeomi didn’t even want to touch in fear of breaking it, but learned how to clean anyway because Ran never did before he left in the morning. A few potted plants that livened up the place ever so slightly, making the place seem a bit less dreary and more welcoming. A matching set of blankets for the couch and for the bed, so that Ran could always keep himself warm while waiting for Takeomi to come home and do that job himself.

Half of Takeomi’s closet was now dedicated to suits Ran had decided to leave behind so he could always leave looking fresh. Half of his dresser for undergarments and sleep clothes so Ran would always be comfortable regardless of what stage of their night they were in.

Ran had really made himself at home in Takeomi’s apartment. Though it may as well be classified as theirs now as it seemed the number of items contributed to the household by Ran now outweighed his own.

But the physical items were only a small fraction of what Ran left with Takeomi. They were also the least important.

What Ran did to him, what he made Takeomi feel, was what he appreciated the most.

Takeomi hadn’t smiled in what felt like years, but now every time Ran teased him, his mouth found itself in an amused grin, so foriegn and yet so comfortable at the same time.

The feeling of someone he cared about sharing his bed again, tangled together and warm, made him wish he were younger so that he could keep up with Ran a little bit better. Ran called him “Old Man” and “cute” in the same breath and Takeomi could never tell if he was being mocked or if they had grown into terms of endearment spoken directly into his ears.

It was the imprint of Ran on his mind, the one that never left no matter how many days or weeks it had been since they had been alone together. It was how Takeomi now knew Ran’s favorite book, and how he liked his coffee, and how he tried to keep the plants alive so Ran wouldn’t be disappointed in him when he returned.

It was the ache in his soul when he had to go to bed alone, finding Ran’s shirt or his underwear tucked between his sheets, soft purple hair on his pillows and goodnight phone calls from an untraceable phone number that Takeomi was never allowed to save but knew by heart.

Ran pinched his sides and bit his shoulders and left small bruises all over his body every time they were together, but no matter how much they hurt, the ache of closing the door behind Ran when he inevitably had to leave hurt worse.

Ran was a bastard. Absolutely insufferable and conceited and self-important.

But Ran was also someone that Takeomi absolutely refused to live without.

He may only get Ran in pieces. In short moments in time, a miniscule sliver of the picture that makes Ran who he is and who Takeomi loves.

But, if Takeomi gathers up enough pieces, he will eventually have enough to complete the puzzle. And maybe then, Ran can be a whole person to him. An actual partner, who he can say he loves without hesitation.

For now, Takeomi will cling to the moments and the things Ran leaves behind, because they are ultimately better than the nothing he had before.

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A/N :Once upon a time I was reading someone's card on twitter and they mentioned they shipped Akashi and Ran. As a rarepair shipper at the core, and with Akashi and Ran as two of my favorite characters, I was immediately hooked by the thought. My friend and I immediately discussed them in full, and I've been sitting on this little idea for a couple weeks... It's my first time writing about Ran formally, so I hope he came out well. Akashi as always was so much fun.

I am hoping to branch out to more of my TR rarepairs soon. But we will have to wait and see what I have time for once I go back to work next week.

Twitter : @_dreyars