Work Text:
It was a rare day that Kurogane was allowed to drive them in one of Fai’s cars, but for the purposes of sitting in mid afternoon LA traffic, he was given the dubious honor. Fai sat at his side, eyes just in shadow while the rest of him was cast in harsh yellow sunlight.
A song played in softly over the radio. One that Kurogane had heard a million times before. It was hard to keep track anymore if it was because Fai had had a hand in producing it or if it was just the repetition any top twenty song tended to get. It all had a tendency to blur after a while.
The hook was nice. Or… it had been the first thirty times he had heard it.
He reached for the dial but Fai made an unhappy little noise. Kurogane said nothing but pulled his hand away once more, gazing out the window to read billboards in the hopes that one of them might offer a modicum of entertainment.
“Do you think I should get work done?”
Kurogane looked over at Fai, who had the back of his fingers held flat under his chin, pushing the skin up, then releasing again, watching his jawline in the visor mirror.
It wasn’t the first time Fai had tread into this territory, but it was the first time the question had been so frank. Kurogane gazed at a 20 foot tall sign of a middle aged, balding ambulance chaser and briefly pondered if he’d change places with him given the choice.
“I think you’re better than that. I think you owe it to the people that look up to you to resist the pressure to look perfect or eternally young. The cult of youth has been established for the soul purpose of fostering insecurity and turning it into capital and the fact you are even asking yourself this means you’ve giving into the machine on some level and you’re probably willing to pass those insecurities onto the next generation for your own gain. I think the time you have on this Earth is limited and you’re spending it worrying if you’re sexy enough for people that don’t particularly care about you outside of what profits you can bring them or how they can next consume you. Neither of which will bring you lasting happiness, unlike the companionship of your boyfriend who would very much like you to examine who you think you need to please and why.”
When no answer came he looked over, with slight trepidation but not really able to muster any regret. Fai was staring at him, expression unreadable.
“But it’s your body,” Kurogane went on, gripping the steering wheel and staring into the licence plate of the car before them. “You do you, babe.”
There was a long silence. The end of the song was stepped on by the radio DJ contractually obligated to tell Kurogane that he was in fact listening to the radio station frequency they had selected upon getting in the car. There was a slight stumble into the new song that had much the same feel but was sung by a man and featured more prominent guitars than the last one.
“Cult of youth paid for this car,” Fai said, just a touch haughty.
“Well, I hope you two are very happy together.”
There was a long silence again. Half a mile passed at a crawl. Fai dug for a stick of gum and started chewing it a touch aggressively. It was what he did now when he particularly wanted a cigarette. “What were your twenties like?”
Kurogane shrugged, shaking his head and relenting a little. “I don’t know. I guess-”
“Because mine were shit.”
There it was. That sharp tone he’d been waiting for.
“I know,” Kurogane said on the back of a tired sigh. His eyes didn’t stray from the traffic, but he reached over to brush his pinky against Fai’s where it rested on the edge of his seat. Fai didn’t look at him either, too busy glaring at the skyline, but he also didn’t pull away. It was enough. Kurogane could work with this. “I was there.”
“For parts of it.”
“The parts you let me see.”
“Fuck off.”
Kurogane said nothing, willing the tightness in his throat to ease. He had decided long ago this was an anger he didn’t want to hold Fai accountable for, but sometimes his body was slow to get the memo. Eventually Fai’s hand turned over, lacing a few of their fingers together.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not.” The words came sharp and a little strained, like something fighting to get out.
“I’m not,” Fai admitted, watching Kurogane’s expression carefully as he started to pet his wrist. “But it feels rude not to say it.”
“I’ll take rude if it’s the price I pay for honest.” Kurogane glanced over at him and the look that passed between them wasn’t happy by any means, but there was a certain satisfaction to it.
Something familiar. Comforting in a way.
Fai pulled away to check his phone, tension somewhat eased by the moment. Kurogane took his hand back to the wheel and moved his other to rest his temple on a fist and his elbow on the window ledge.
“I think we might be late again,” Fai said, only a touch of anxiety showing in his voice, but even that small vulnerability was an olive branch of sorts.
“It’s fine. You’re worth waiting for.”
Fai went oddly still, and when Kurogane had the chance to look over, he found Fai giving him a wry smile. “You say the sweetest thing sometimes, Kuro-pu.” Fai gave him a saccharine, camera-ready grin.
Kurogane snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m not- I just write your contracts. It’s literally more lucrative for them to wait on you all the time than to find someone else.”
Fai answered with an audible pout.
“I mean, you are though. Worth waiting for. Clearly. Or else I’d be long gone by now.”
Fai gave him a wide smile, chewing at his gum. “Kurgs, you really know how to sweet talk a girl.”
He rolled his eyes but in ended in a conspiratorial little smirk. “Shut up.” His attention went back to the road as traffic began to open up again. “You’re thinking about this the entirely wrong way though. Stop thinking of yourself as a pop star.”
“I’ll be damned if I’m not a-”
“Think of yourself as a rockstar instead. Those guys get to get old without losing their sex appeal.”
Fai winced. “Eww… Kurgy has that secretly been your type all along? Wrinkly?”
Kurogane gestured and frowned at the road. “Right, because how is ‘could pass for teen’ not fucked up?”
“Most pop stars can’t. You’ve just been conditioned to think they can by actors in their twenties getting cast as highschool freshmen.”
“See!” Kurogane hit the steering wheel suddenly enough to make Fai flinch, then ease into an amused smile as he went on. “It’s all bullishit! Kids need to look old. Adults need to look young. Are you just supposed to be eternally twenty three your whole life?”
“Kurgs, calm down.”
“When was the last time you spent any time with a twenty three year old? It sucks! They speak in code and think fonts are a punchline. Why is that supposed to be desirable?”
“I don’t think it’s fair to base a whole age bracket on hanging out with Kazahaya. The kid is kinda…”
“Don’t be mean.”
“...high maintenance?”
Kurogane frowned but allowed it. It could have been much worse. Ironic to hear that from Fai of all people though. But maybe everyone seemed high maintenance when you had so little to give.
“Still,” Fai sighed, resting his chin on the heel of his palm and looking longingly for a hint of ocean past the city. “It would be nice to get a do over. Without all the…” He trailed off with a vague handwave.
“You are getting a do over,” Kurogane reminded him gently. “You still have plenty of time left.”
“I know. It all just makes me fucking angry.”
Kurogane reached out to squeeze his thigh in comfort. “Valid.” The word choice was instinct. Something he kept hearing. Memetic in the classical way.
He was almost convinced he’d gotten away without comment only to find Fai grinning at him.
“What?”
“‘Valid’? Is that another Kazahaya-ism?”
He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Tomoyo got there first. I don’t want to talk about it.”