#highflyflows

A throbbing (hangover) headache. A cold breakfast. A press conference blow-up, because that's the only kind he's able to have- especially alone. So how does he cope? Maybe remembering a Mox move from years past, a lifetime ago with a certain tactical vest, he's burning a bloody straightjacket in a makeshift barrel fire in the parking lot. His head cocks to the side at the sound of steps, big sunglasses nearly blocking the way his brows arch, but doing nothing to hide the sneering curl of his upper lip.

If things weren't as they are, Gabe might be chomping for that International Champ belt. If things weren't as they are, maybe he'd be sleeping easier, Drilla close at hand. If things weren't as they are, maybe it wouldn't be the entire fucking roster taking a fat paycheck to back someone that Gabe, quite frankly, would like to bite into the face of if given half the chance. Hell- maybe that's what all of the contenders for the throne so far have been missing. But things are as they are. Drilla is not here. Half-Death Rider, half-Dog, all pissed, and staring down the guy he once lambasted for taking the same deal he did to cross another ocean and see most of his pack follow him.

"Does  anything  ever  really  go  to  plan  with  us?"  Oiwa  says  with  a  playful  but  embarrassed  huff.  Originally,  their  plan  was  for  Zack  to  simply  drag  Oiwa  to  some  new  vegan  noodle  place  that  opened  and  enjoy  their  food  before  crashing  at  Zack's  place  since  they  were  around  the  parts  and  on  a  one  day  break  before  getting  their  asses  back  on  the  road.  And  that  is  honestly  what  happened.  But  then  one  beer  on  Zack's  surprisingly  cozy  couch  turned  to  two,  and  at  some  point  Oiwa  was  just  biting  the  rim  out  of  some  nervous  habit.  Zack  is  warm,  like  heater  warm,  and  having  him  maybe  at  arms  reach  with  some  lounge  clothes  on  was  all  parts  wrong,  all  parts  right  and  putting  loud  alarms  to  start  ringing  in  Oiwa's  head.

“You can’t—“ Taichi’s hold on Umino is tight, secure but it threatens to slip when he speaks as such. It had been drinks, something celebratory between friends. Easy. But now the younger man is drunk in his arms as he tries to get him into his own place. He would have taken the other back to Shota’s apartment but it was too long aways and its that crisp cold weather outside that could be a danger for either of them.

“You can’t say things like that.” Taichi finally manages as he shoves the other onto his couch. Dark exterior even when he flips on a light. Whites and blacks. It’s not hard to remember the last time Umino was in here but Taichi had forced himself to forget about it. Now it’s being brought up in a different manner. What selfish thing would it be to have some level of wanting to know more. Of wanting to be Umino’s undoing and putting together.

This was a hundred percent all Zack’s brilliant idea because of course it was. Taichi prefers the indoors, away from the sun and where he can stay under covers in the comfort of his own bed thank you very much. But no, Zack is one of those people who loves the outdoors and dammit to hell if Taichi can’t admit it’s endearing only from him. Especially in those seasons where he is warm, supple and freshly tanned from the sun. Taichi most definitely would turn anyone down if they so much as offered a hike but a camping trip? He would have called them crazy and yes, he called Zack the same but he is adding a smile to it and he is the worlds biggest personal Zack pushover because he caves and says yes maybe only a minute later. Was he supposedly to say no to those eyes?

So here they were. In the middle of nowhere and it had gone well. This was a perfect excuse to spend more time with the man, and Zack loves to talk when you get him going and Taichi loves to listen. There's a few hiccups, like the fire almost failing to start and Zack’s admission to food being his own variety and once again Taichi gives in to his Tofu. Its a little bit of a mess to set the tent up, and admittedly he tries to do it all on his own while shoving Zack away to prove that he can do this. For himself. Maybe for the loud British man hopefully watching him and not catching his mistakes.

It’s only inside that he tries to be absolutely normal about them sleeping there together. It is normal, very normal and common but it still makes Taichi nervous. So his nerves are already shot when he wakes up to something. Something snapping, and his eyes shoot open. First instinct is to reach out to Zack and make sure he is there in one piece. He smacks his chest accidentally, eyes adjusting to the darkness. There's a noise, low like a hum but it sounds wrong. Dangerous.

A random fabric is thrown into the open suitcase on the bed. At this point, Takeshita isn’t even sure what was in or out of the thing as he mindlessly grabs things and throws them inside. The other man in the room is hard to drown out, loud and almost absentmindedly he is always dragged back over to him in times of need but he is putting his foot down once and for all. The mansion must be empty, or frankly no one in the family ‘cares’ enough to check on them. Walls are thick here, but someone must be lurking. Doesn’t matter though when Takeshita is halfway done packing. He rather lay on someone else’s couch, anywhere else other then here where there animosity is slowly building as time goes on. The threat of a looming smile, sneering at him like a wolf basically saying, ‘See, they don’t want you. Need you.’. An easy replacement.

the words lingered in the dim airport gate. swerve didn’t even look up at first. he just tugged his hood over his head and gave a long exhale. outside the large windows, there was nothing but white. runway lights blurred into snowfall, and the terminal felt too big, too empty for two men who’d rather be anywhere else.

"yeah," he finally muttered, shifting in his seat just to claim the only working outlet between them. phone plugged in, switch plugged in... no remorse. he was doing it on purpose.