Rules Were Made to be Broken

‣ scene 11 [not again!]

Kiyotaka yawned.

For what must have been the hundredth time that day.

The last month had been productive and more along the lines of what he was used to, because he'd managed to stretch his week-long no-Mondo streak into one that had lasted a month. The changes in his schedule had worked, so they no longer ran into one another at the gym or in the grocery store or anywhere else.

This had brought about a new problem, though. Adjusting to a whole new schedule was harder on his body than he had expected it to be. He was still young, right? He shouldn't have had so much trouble waking up in the morning just because he'd moved some things around and cut half an hour out of his sleep.

His parents had definitely noticed how tired he was at dinner. He'd gone to the Novoselic household again, where he and Sonia were grilled by both sets of parents on their dates and how serious things were getting. They'd worked all of this out beforehand, so they were able to lie convincingly. But the dinner had run late, and he'd taken a wrong turn somewhere and wasn't even halfway home. At this rate, he wouldn't be home in time for his usual bedtime.

It was getting dark. That wasn't helping him stay awake.

He fought against the fatigue. The open, empty road was strangely relaxing. Classical music hummed softly in the background, and the sky was always pretty at this time of day. The sun dipped low enough that it was mostly concealed by the horizon, turning the sky purple. Kiyotaka took in a long breath.

He'd be alright. He'd get to sleep once he got home.

But, of course, things couldn't possibly go his way, because Kiyotaka Ishimaru was the kind of person who could apparently never catch a break, not even one.

Without any kind of warning, his car screeched at him. The steering wheel jerked violently, so hard that his hands proved useless in stopping it. He fought the wheel and tried to straighten the car out, but it was like his fighting made it mad at him or something. With a final sickening lurch, it swerved off of the road. He hit the brakes in an attempt to lessen the impact. Then, crunch.

He'd only crashed into a street sign. He wasn't hurt, and there weren't any injured passerby. But the front of his car was definitely smashed.

Kiyotaka walked around the whole of the car to survey the damage. The dent in the front was ugly, but it seemed to be contained to that area, at least. He couldn't spot anything that could have caused the malfunction.

He called up the same tow company that he'd gotten last time, not paying it much thought. He definitely wasn't thinking about Mondo, because he'd removed that delinquent from his thoughts entirely to focus on more important things, but he was sure he wouldn't run into him again anyway. He'd caught Mondo near the end of his shift last time, and it was already later than that. And that had been on a Friday. Today was a Sunday. He was sure he'd be safe.

He leaned against the car as he waited this time. It was unexpectedly chilly out. Probably the wind. He waited for thirty minutes, and then he spotted that familiar green truck. He smiled as politely as he could and walked over to the window.

Once he'd looked inside, his smile immediately vanished.

"...No. No, no, no!" God dammit.

He turned and took off down the road. He wasn't sure where he was running, and he was sure that he couldn't get anywhere on foot, but he was running just to offer up some form of protest at this point. The truck driver laughed incredulously and hit the gas. Even while cruising slowly along, he had no trouble keeping up. Because he was in a truck. Kiyotaka didn't want to admit to how silly that made him feel.

The driver rolled down the window.

"It's almost like ya don't like me or somethin'," he called.

"Because you're irritating! And you need to learn to mind your own business!" Kiyotaka spat in reply. The driver just laughed, finding his (admittedly misguided) anger as amusing as he always did. "What are you even doing here?! It's late! It should have been a different driver!"

"Don't ya remember what my one complaint about the job was?"

Kiyotaka stopped, glaring at the ground beneath his feet with one eyebrow twitching.

"...Long and inconsistent hours?"

"That's the one."

Kiyotaka risked a careful glance at the truck window. Mondo Oowada had an arm leaning casually out of the window, the other affixed to the wheel. He grinned. Rather than the usual immodest tees and tanks, he was wearing a leather jacket. Kiyotaka scoffed at it. An actual, literal leather jacket. If anybody asked, he'd say that it made him mad because it was tacky and informal and NOT because Mondo looked really hot in it, or because one much like it had appeared in one of his shameful dreams.

He started moving down the road again. Not running this time. Marching, with his back straight and determined, his favorite boots thumping stubbornly against the asphalt. The truck continued to follow him.

"I'll get in trouble if I don't come back with ya," Mondo reminded him. He actually sounded concerned for a moment. "It also seems a little weird that you'd call the same company if ya really didn't wanna see me so bad. It's not like there's only one trucking company in Japan."

Kiyotaka's marching slowed.

"...That..."

"I think maybe ya missed me a little?"

Kiyotaka's heart skipped a beat, and his face reddened.

"I— I did nothing of the sort! That's absurd!"

While he denied the accusation, it did get him to stop fleeing in favor of crossing his arms and glaring at Mondo. They stared one another down. Mondo's confident smile didn't waver. He seemed to be chewing on a toothpick for some reason. Kiyotaka glared harder, as if he was trying to send a mental ray to ward the other man off. It didn't work. Mondo shrugged, releasing Kiyotaka from the mysterious hold that his gaze held.

"Aw, c'mon," he pled, shrugging his broad shoulders, the ones that looked even broader in that stupidly sexy jacket. "Don't y'want a ride?"

Oh, I want a RIDE, alright.

Kiyotaka bit his tongue as hard as he could without drawing blood to make sure that he did NOT, under any circumstances, say that out loud. If he said something like that, his life really would be ruined. His reputation as a law-abiding goodie-two-shoes would be, at the very least.

But, then again, he thought as he begrudgingly climbed into the passenger's seat of the truck, it may very well already be.