Title: Haunts
Author: phobiaplague
Chapter: 4/??
Genre: Comedy/Thriller/Suspense/Drama

Warnings: Language
Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Rune belongs to evilgeniuskoji .











Wednesday of the following week came quickly--largely in part because Toshiro had spent a great deal of it recuperating.  Throughout the first two days of the week, a small sign had hung quietly in the window, turning away all would-be customers with a simple 'Sorry, we're closed.' The house was almost eerily silent--save for the periodic rattling of cupboard doors as Kio tidied up the kitchen. Another picturesque morning dawned on Wednesday--with the sort of rustic charm that one expects to find on the front of a cracked and yellowed postcard, edges dark with decay, while sifting through the dusty boxes of their grandmother's attic. Pale blue waterman pen ink long fading with humidity, the picture on the front a small, wooden cabin set between aspen trees ablaze in a riot of full autumn color.

And of course, one can't forget the flawless blue sky, swirled with clouds as wispy and pale as melting whipped cream in hot liquid. And indeed, the trembling, pale aspen were in rare form in dawn's light--colored in astounding shades of yellow and ocher that were so bright that they were almost painful to look at straight on. The light filtered into Toshiro's small bedroom window with the sort of persistence that made it impossible to go back to sleep. Toshiro had never been much of a morning person--in fact, most days he loathed the coming of dawn, simply because it meant that he would have to be up and about sooner than he would have liked. But on this day, he threw back the crisp white linen sheets with a surprising display of energy. He lazed in bed for a few moments, stretching his arms out over his head and reveling in the satisfying pops that came from the cat-like arch of his back. A lazy, pleased smile settled upon his lips then, still slightly drowsy.


Normally, one of his favorite things to do on mornings such as this was to lay in bed for a few minutes longer, soaking in the warm that still lingered in the sheets from the overnight trapped heat of his body. He would stare blankly at the ceiling, his eyelashes softly kissing his cheeks with each sleepily blink, and his hand would blindly go to Skellington's head, thumb swirling gently in small circles in a light massage, the bass rumble of the feline's pleasure echoing his own content. Afterwards, when he felt that he had blinked the sleep from his eyes--or at least was awake enough to function--he would shuffle down the hall and descend the stairs for a leisurely cup of tea before the sign was flipped and he was prepared to greet customers for the day.


But there was no time for such pleasure or leisure. Distantly, from down the stairs he heard the tolling chime of the doorbell as it echoed through the silent rooms. Toshiro's brows creased into a frown, and he brought his hands up to scrub wearily at his face. Who could that be at this hour? Heaving a sigh of resignation, he sat up quickly, swinging his legs over the side of his bed, cringing slightly as his bare toes came into contact with the cold floorboards. That was the peculiar thing about this house--while too new to have a problem with draft, the hushed foot traffic of the spirit world had caused a perpetual chill to linger in the walls and floors. Grumbling his complaints under his breath, he quickly crossed to the bedroom door, pulling it open hurriedly. As he slipped into the hallway, Skellington, for his part, lazily lifted his head from the bedsheets and stared after him with his eyes at half-mast. Once Toshiro had rounded the corner out of sight, he immediately stood, shifted exactly two inches to the left, and plopped down in the center of the warm spot Toshiro had left behind, before curling up tightly once more.


By the time Toshiro was midway down the stairs, the doorbell rang again. This time the note was shorter, clipped. As if the finger had only jabbed impatiently this time, rather than held the rounded button in.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Don't get your panties twisted," he called.

He reached the last of the stairs just as the last notes of the doorbell faded away. If he had been more aware of his appearance, he probably would have reconsidered opening the door at that moment. His hair was tousled and slightly flat to one side from where it had rested against his pillow. The normally curly ends of his hair had tangled slightly, forming an untidy bird's nest. As for his clothes--or what little he wore of them--the oversized white nightshirt was full of diagonal creases and a number of wrinkles. As for his pants, he wore none--having settled for a plain pair of plaid boxers. As it was, however he had unlocked the door and thrown it open before he could take any of the above into account.

Rune stood in the doorway, his half-turned stance suggesting that he had just been about to leave.  As soon as the door opened, however, he turned with an expectant air. The second he took in Toshiro's disheveled appearance, one eyebrow rose as his eyes swept over him, taking in everything from the condition of his hair to the hardly professional wrinkles that had taken up residence in his clothing. A corner of his mouth quirked up in a slow smirk.

"Good morning. Did I wake you up?"

"You did, actually," Toshiro countered with a slight narrowing of his eyes. "Is there some reason you're here?"

"Yes. For my appointment. Remember? You said to come again Wednesday."

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Toshiro demanded, squinting at him. Rune merely shrugged carelessly, as if the question were unimportant, or at the very least, a silly one.

"Of course. It's seven o'clock."

"Right. Most people are in bed at this hour, Rune."

"Actually--" Rune began, opening his mouth to counter the statement with an amused sort of half-smile that was far too smug for Toshiro's tase.

"Let me rephrase, then. Most normal people."

"I could come back, if..." Rune began, his words trailing off as he shot Toshiro's poor choice of wardrobe a meaningful glance.

"No, don't," Toshiro sighed. "You're already here, there's no point in coming back later," he said as he waved him inside.


Rune flashed him a quiet smile of gratitude before stepping inside. Toshiro sighed before shutting the door behind them, sliding the lock home. Rune found his way into the living room with the ease of  familiarity, and had already taken his seat by the time Toshiro joined him. Wordlessly, Toshiro moved to the drapes just above the dining room windows, dragging sharply on their cords to release them. They tumbled down with a sharp hissing, zipping sort of noise before clattering dully on the windowsill. Instantly, the brightness of the room lessened into dull sort of gray. Toshiro made his way over to the table then, absently picking up the plain white matchbook on the table and unfolding it, selecting a match from inside before striking it along the top of the matchbook. With a soft, crackling hiss, the match flared to life, and he quickly made his rounds to each candle, lighting them in turn.

Only then did he join Rune, pulling out a chair at his side and settling into it.


"Ready?" he asked quietly.

Rune only nodded, wisely keeping silent this time. Toshiro returned the nod curtly, his hands coming to rest on the armrests as his eyes gently shut. The second channeling happened quicker than the first. Even though Rune had tried to mentally prepare himself after what had occurred last time, the sudden change when Toshiro's eyes opened again was still unsettling.


"Whoa," Keiji muttered, sinking slightly into his chair. "Back in this dump again." 

He shot a look at Rune then, and his lashes immediately lowered.

"Mm. So how's it goin', loverboy? You still as, uh...'pert' as ever in the mornings?" His eyes drew themselves downward from Rune's chest to his lap pointedly.


"Good morning, Keiji," Rune said stiffly.

"Yeah, well, that depends," came the grunt, as he scrubbed at the back of his neck roughly with a palm.

"On what?" Rune hedged warily.

"Ya really need t'ask?"


The wolfish grin and the sickening innuendo behind it made Rune grimace, half in amusement and half in disgust.


"Listen, we need to talk--"

"I'll say," Keiji cut in. "I mean, I'm barely in the ground here, and you're already shacking up with the first piece of ass you could grab!"

"It's not like that," Rune muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Oh, suure it isn't."

"No. It's not," he repeated, a bit more firmly this time. "Anyway, about the mo--"

"Give us a kiss," came the drawl, "and I'll think about it."


Rune huffed quietly. He hadn't expected a different answer, of course, but it still left a sour taste in his mouth nonetheless. His arms rose and folded stubbornly across his chest.

"I'm not the mood for your games, Keiji," he said patiently.

"Then don't play 'em. Is there anything to eat?" he questioned suddenly, rising to his feet with a strangely eager look on his face.


Rune looked at him with an air of utter astonishment. One that Keiji paid no attention to as he moved quickly from the dining room and into the kitchen. By the time Rune had recovered well enough to think to go after him, Keiji's head was already buried in the open door of the fridge, the pale yellow lighting spilling out across the tiles of the floor, rattling around the contents with a sour look.

"Does this bastard have any real food?" he grumbled. "The hell is with all these allergen-free and organic bullshit?"

"You don't need to eat anyway," Rune said in exasperation, leaning against the counter as he watched the man's rooting lazily.

"No," he agreed cheerfully. "But if I can take my revenge on the bastard by eating his food, all the better."


The door slammed shut an instant later, and Keiji only barely managed to draw his face free at the last second. He blinked for a second, confused. Rune, however, shot him a challenging look. He never saw it coming. Keiji's face darkened for a moment, but only a moment, before he surged forward. He caught him roughly by the shoulders, shoving his back into the cold surface of the fridge, and before Rune can even properly register what has happened, Keiji's weight slides against him, keeping him still. For a moment, he grits his teeth angrily. But there's a warmth that quickly grows into a head the more conscious he becomes of it, and when he spares a glance down, it's to find Toshiro's bear thigh pressed snugly against his hip.

He is suddenly keenly, all too uncomfortably aware of how the shirt clings to his thin frame, and how the cold or something else has caused his nipples to harden and become visible under the thin material. His mouth suddenly ran dry. Before he can think of a single coherent thing to say,  the feel of lips against the shell of his ear keeps him silent--tongue tracing along simple metal loops and flicking against their underside with short motions of the tip of his tongue. And just as quickly and slyly, sliding through their centers and curling to stretch the skin just enough to sting.


"Stop," Rune grits, but the way he says it is short of breath, and the trembling of his voice says otherwise.

Keiji ignores him, tugging firmly on a loop with his teeth as one hand snaked up his shirt, nails dragging down his chest hard enough to make Rune flinch.

"Get your new boytoy to stop me. Oh, wait." Rune can feel the smirk blossom across his skin.

"I'm going to sell some of your shit," he says flatly.

Anything to distract him from-- ohfuckshit! --the sudden urge to rock into the hand that has found it's way into his pants, only just barely biting back a guttural moan.

"Then sell it," comes the indifferent reply. "It'll keep them off your back for a few weeks, if you're lucky."

"So tell me where the money is!"


Silence.

When Toshiro blinked, Rune swore, shoving him roughly. Keiji has pulled another of his famous vanishing acts. Toshiro eyed him sourly, mouth opening to snap at him. But his eyes traveled to his hands. Or rather, the fact that they were in Rune's pants, and curled around a weighty, warm-- his eyes widened then, and with a squeak, his hands flew back, wrenching free of his pants.


"Wha--"


Rune, however, didn't say a word, but stonily shoved past him and stormed from the kitchen into the hall. The front door opened, and moments later, slammed shut.