Prompt: 003 ~ Delirious May 2011©
Fandom: Antic Cafe
Focus: Kanon x Bou
Word Count: 1,055
Fandom: Antic Cafe
Focus: Kanon x Bou
Word Count: 1,055
It was the middle of the night and Kanon was delirious.
He must have been.
There were colorful lights swirling about, but Kanon was sure that he’d left the confines of the club. It was the middle of the night and the sky was blue-black, but the street was bright as day and Kanon was sure he was delirious.
The scent of alcohol hung lightly on his clothes, but he knew he hadn’t had anything to drink. After having known Miku for so long, Kanon knew better than to tempt fate by taking even a sip of one of the singer’s concoctions. He’d been clean all night, and even so, Kanon knew he was delirious.
Kanon had to have been delirious, because on the day-lit bridge in the middle on the night, Bou was with him, and they were talking. Looking out over the shimmering black water from the bright bit of bridge suspended high above it, they were talking. After such a long time apart, nearly a year of which had contained next no indication of each other’s continued existence, they were talking.
Their conversation wasn’t really about anything at all and Kanon couldn’t really remember how it had started. But suddenly, somehow, Bou was there, commenting on the sparkle of the lights on the water. “It’s really pretty at night, but it’s best in the morning, with the fog and the sun.”
“I’ve always liked it on summer afternoons,” Kanon countered. “When everything is warm and yellow and red and soft.”
Bou pouted. “Summer is too hot. Spring is better, spring is warm.”
“Evening then,” Kanon amended. “But definitely summer.”
“Why summer?” Bou asked petulantly. “It’s hot and there are too many bugs and there’s never any ice cream around when you need it!”
Kanon shrugged. The he used his delirium as inspiration and explained, “It’s like being high, summertime. But not off any of the crap we used to do for kicks. Summer is like being high and completely conscious at the same time, nothing’s really half as good as you think it is, but it doesn’t matter because you’re too jacked up to care. And everything that happens in summertime is instantly idealized, stuck forever in the happy haze of memory.”
“Happy haze of memory?” There was a quiet moment after Bou whistled. “I never knew you were such a romantic.”
Kanon laughed softly. “I guess I am.”
Another long moment passed. “I like it.”
“Hmm?” Bou had taken so long to speak that it prompted Kanon to ask, “Like what?”
“Your idea of summer.”
“I think you’re right, probably,” Bou went on, his expression turning dreamy. “I don’t think I’m really qualified to judge, I never really was able to go completely clean. I’m not really sure I remember what it’s like to be completely conscious.”
It was only then that Kanon asked, “How have you been, Bou?”
“Tired,” Bou replied with a smile that only emphasized his point. Kanon watched him out of the corner of his eye as Bou twirled a strand of his white blonde hair up behind his ear. Tugging down sharply on the edge of his pink beanie to cover it, Bou asked, “You?”
With a sigh that spoke volumes more than the word alone, Kanon replied, “Same.”
They fell silent, staring out over the shimmering water. Kanon’s elbows were resting on the bridge’s railing and his posture was slumped over it as he tried to balance out in his world of delirium. In contrast, Bou was standing up nearly straight, leaning back on his heels as his fingertips fought for enough purchase on the railing to keep him from falling.
Uneasily enduring the easy silence, Kanon tried to determine what exactly had trigged this delirium. While weighing the pros and cons of drugging up again on whatever it was that had caused Bou to appear before him, Kanon felt a shoulder press into his. He turned his head, flicking away the straight black bangs so that he could see Bou clearly. Taking in the blonde’s scent, Kanon tried to determine what drug he’d ever had that allowed hallucinations to possess such detail.
Bou’s smell, his touch, that smirking smile, the way that one strand of blonde hair refused to sit the way Bou’s part demanded it to; all of it was locked in Kanon’s memory forever. But he couldn’t remember having ever found a drug that could put all of the pieces together so perfectly. While he was lost in this delirium, he couldn’t remember much though, his focus was entirely lost on anything that wasn’t Bou as he laid his head on Kanon’s shoulder and said, “I missed you.”
“Where were you?”
Answering wistfully, Bou replied, “I think I was in your summertime. I don’t actually remember too much of it; and in my head the places are all blurry and warm and nice, but I know, logically, that I wasn’t happy anywhere I was, even though I can’t really tell you any specifics.”
“What have been doing for all this time?” As he asked, Kanon’s arm moved instinctively to rest around Bou’s sharp shoulders. The guitarist hadn’t filled out at all in his absence, in fact he may have gotten even skinnier.
Bou sighed and leaned into Kanon falling back into the routine he’d thought he’d broken his habit of. “I partied for a while, and then trashed it all. I tried to grow a beard. I nearly killed myself a few times, most of them were accidents,” Bou soothed as Kanon tensed. Then he added, “I’ve been thinking a lot.”
“Life,” Bou replied dreamily. “And string cheese.”
“Yeah, you’d be surprised how hard it is to get your hands on decent string cheese in this country when you aren’t famous.”
Kanon chuckled despite himself.
Then he decided to make the most of his delirium while it lasted. “Bou, you wanna grab some coffee?”
Bou smiled and slid his arm around Kanon’s waist, inside the bassist’s leather jacket. “I would love to.”
Kanon led Bou off the bridge, heading towards the nearest coffee shop. Tonight there would eventually be recognition and relief, and a fight over feelings of betrayal and abandonment. But in the morning, there would be reconciliation. And for now, there was the happy daydream of delirium.
And for now, that was just perfect.