You do need to get out more on weekends, but drinking alone at the restaurant doesn't count. It's just me.
[ He says this, as if Kojiro's company is the last thing Kaoru wants. As if either of them would rather do anything else with their free time. As if Kojiro's not at his happiest (and most whole) at Kaoru's side. Maybe that feeling isn't mutual, but it's not like they express these things to each other, so context clues are all Kojiro can draw from. ]
But like you said, it's not like you're cruising for company, even though you could stand to get laid, so--
[ Kojiro shrugs, and holds his glass out to Kaoru. ]
Excuse me? You're in exactly the same boat right now. Are you losing your touch? Are shoulders so wide you can barely fit through a door out of fashion with the women now?
[He glares just long enough to make Kojiro think he might leave him hanging, just as punishment for that dig at his sex life.
But in the end... there's nowhere he'd rather be than here, either. He'd hardly keep inviting himself over if this wasn't singularly comforting in a way that is so second-nature by now, he hardly even thinks about it.
So in the end, he does clink his glass to Kojiro's before drinking deeply again.]
Not yet, sweetheart. But thanks for the vote of confidence.
[ Kojiro's only barely stifling his laughter while he follows suit, shoulders shaking silently through a long sip of his wine. The banter's always easy, practically automatic by this point. But his glass is almost empty now and--
Why the hell didn't they bring the bottles in here? Kojiro curses quietly and rolls off the couch, back to the kitchenette, secures both bottles, and sets them on the coffee table when he returns. ]
So who's this amontillado you're talking about?
[ He's asking while he tops off his own glass, then Kaoru's, and falling back into an even-more-ungainly flop on the couch. At least it's something to distract from the fact that he's pointedly refusing to make eye contact with Kaoru, at least for a few busy moments. ]
If it's Adam again, you're the one getting roundhouse kicked.
[He's watching Kojiro carefully the whole time, comtemplating--but maybe he can pretend that he only perked up at seeing Kojiro returning, double-fisting those wine bottles. It is a welcome sight. He doesn't even have to ask before Kojiro is refilling his glass, and he's reminded again that this is exactly what he needed. No need to be on perfect manners. He can turn his brain off and just be spoiled a little. Thank god.
At least, he would be able to if not for the inconvenient questions that he can no longer brush off with the excuse that he needs more booze. His tongue is pleasantly numb, and his brain is following suit right around the edges. He lets out a little huff, but gives in anyway.]
Why even ask, then, if you don't want to know?
[He knows that even tipsy, he's fast enough that he doesn't have to worry about Kojiro making good on that threat. Even though, honestly, maybe someone should kick him at this point.]
He wants to "apologise," whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean. I blocked his number.
[ That's quite possibly the sourest face Kaoru's seen him pull in a while. Deep frown, knit brow, glaring at his wine like it challenged him to a beef. Of course it's Adam. It's always fucking Adam. Kojiro can be supportive to a fault, but there are some lines that can't be crossed.
They all take their lives in their hands at S. It's not supposed to be safe, and that's honestly part of the appeal. But what Adam did to Kaoru? That's not excusable, and it's not forgivable, no matter how badly he wants to apologize. ]
Yeah, that'll work until he gets a wild hair up his ass and shows up at your place with roses.
[ They both know he'd do it. But-- Shit, maybe he's not being fair. It's not Kojiro's call. If Adam wants to apologize, if Kaoru wants him back, Kojiro has no grounds or right to stand in the way of that, no matter how much it crawls the fuck under his skin. The sigh he heaves is just chock-full of irritation, lingering on the confirmation and hating Adam just a little more for it, and he passes a hand briefly over his face. ]
Just-- if you do go back to him, be careful. If I've gotta watch him hurt you a third time, I really am gonna kill him.
[And this is why he needed to be drunk for this. Seeing the anger flash behind Kojiro's eyes makes it so much more difficult for Kaoru to try to approach any of this from a place of cold, hard logic. It makes his already complicated feelings that much more complicated.
Besides, he's not nearly as sure as Kojiro seems to be that Adam would actually follow through in any meaningful way. Asking for a chance to apologise has got to be some kind of mind game, or else just a way of easing his own conscience so he can get on with his life. Adam's grand gestures are for whatever shiny new thing hasn't failed to meet his expectations yet, and that ship sailed with Kaoru long ago.]
I'm not going back. And you're not landing yourself in prison.
[ As if to say, he'll believe it when he sees it. Not that Kojiro honestly believes Kaoru would make a consciably bad decision; Kaoru's practically a grandmaster at overthinking, and he needs to analyze every possible scenario into a stranglehold before settling on the best option. He's got it all down to a fine art. But they both know how charismatic Adam can be, how changeable are his whims, and how expertly he can twist anyone into susceptibility.
Kojiro finishes off his glass, and leans over to pour a third. ]
You've always deserved better than he's able to give you, anyway.
[ Better than Adam's capable of giving him, is what he really means. The man appears for all intents and purposes to be richer than God, and if love were superficial, maybe that would be enough. Granted, it's been almost a decade since they were close, but Kojiro's not entirely convinced that Adam has the capacity to love people. That's the biggest con of his whole Matador of Love shtick. How can you love someone, when you destroy everything you touch? How can anything grow when you're salting the earth in your wake? ]
Seems like you need someone to get you out of that pretty little head of yours. Not put you deeper in it.
[It's a noncommittal sound, but that's more than he would have given one drink ago. Cold sober, he's often convinced that he doesn't need anyone. And if anyone wants him to need them that badly, they'll initiate the chase themselves. Thus, the virtual standstill that his love life settles into most of the time.
But Kojiro makes a decent point about deserving. Because, hasn't he made something of himself? Built a decent life out of less-than-ideal circumstances? Sure, he doesn't need anyone new in his life. But he doesn't technically need antique horse hair brushes with polished ebony handles or fragrances in ornate glass bottles either.
He sighs, and drains the rest of his glass so he can pour more wine. He might have already been ahead by a drink and a half when he arrived, but his competitive side won't allow even the illusion of Kojiro out-drinking him.]
It seems like a lot of trouble.
[But his tone is leaving the realm of "how dare you even suggest I need to get laid" and creeping right into "talk me into it" territory.]
Yeah. Well. Relationships are a lot of trouble. Trick is, finding the ones that are worth the work.
[ There's an implication there. One that Kojiro’s not quite inebriated enough to elaborate on. Something between other people are generally a lot of trouble and you're worth the trouble. He always has been, but Kaoru doesn't need the reminder, least of all from Kojiro. God forbid they beleaguer the whole--
Whatever. The less they say about it -- the less Kojiro knows about Kaoru's love life, or lack thereof -- the better.
Except-- Fuck, this is just making him itch in the worst way. He's not even sure how much he can blame on the wine. It's not like he's a lightweight; he's the size of an ox and they're drinking together practically every night. But Adam's such a sore spot, and Kojiro has coped poorly with his re-emergence from the start. So -- yeah -- maybe none of his business. But all the same, maybe hearing what he already knows will help to cement it for Kaoru. ]
Look. [ Kojiro shifts to face Kaoru, and pulls his legs up to cross on the couch. ] You don't need anyone else to give your life meaning. You know that. You're successful, smart, gorgeous, talented. You've got a hell of a lot going for you. You could have anyone you wanted.
So if you do decide you want company, don't settle. Whoever you end up with, they should spoil you. Not with things, I know you don't need all that. But you need someone to crowd all the doubt out of your mind. Never let you feel anything but totally loved.
...it's what-- [ It's what I'd do for you. It's almost there. Almost real. He almost says it. But that's the last bit of truth that either of them need right now. Then again, Kojiro can't quite manage to look Kaoru in the eye; maybe that says enough. ]
[Kaoru sighs again. Kojiro always makes it look so easy, slipping away with some pretty little thing or another. But of course, appearances aren't the whole story. He knows that it's not easy, too. And if it's not easy for Kojiro, who has always been so much more at ease around people, so much more able to make people like him with a smile and a stupid joke, what does that mean for Kaoru? Even the word finding is a maze in itself. Finding necessitates looking, and not just categorically ruling out every possibility in the one big cost/benefit analysis that is his life.
He blinks when Kojiro shifts position. And then... maybe Kaoru is just flushed from the wine, but it's beginning to feel too warm in here. Kojiro does live above a kitchen that burns hot all day, after all. That's probably what he's feeling as Kojiro rattles off that string of praise that can't possibly just be empty bullshit. Because Kojiro has never once given Kaoru sweet words just to make him feel better. He's an open book in a number of ways that Kaoru can't attain for himself.
So then, why is he glancing away like that?]
Why are you so invested in this?
[A dozen calculations are running in his wine-numb brain at once: Does Kojiro want someone to mutually discuss hookups with that badly? Or does he need Kaoru busy with someone else so he'll stop showing up to mooch free food so often? Is he no longer satisfied with his own love life, so now he has to play matchmaker and meddle in someone else's?
[ Just what? Kojiro flounders. Hindsight is a bitch, and any way he frames his little speech, it sounds suspicious. Not a conversation they should have over wine, clearly. Kojiro sighs, and scrubs a hand through his still-damp hair, struggling to work out what he's saying, what the point is, what won't make everything too obvious. ]
You're my best friend. I want you to be happy.
[ That came out way too sullen; low and mumbly, like he's not entirely committed to it. And Kojiro hardly ever flushes when he drinks, but there's red creeping up across his nose and his cheeks. He practically chugs the rest of his current glass, and lets it hang empty from his fingertips for a few thoughtful moments. Take two; try this again, Nanjo. ]
I'm not invested. You're just-- I'll be damned if I let some loser take you from me.
[ Wow! That sounded even worse! Fantastic! Kojiro's shoulders tense to a hard square through a frustrated growl. His face is burning and he has absolutely no means of explanation for this. At least, nothing that won't keep making the situation worse. ]
I-- Shit, Kaoru. I don't know what I'm trying to say, okay? I just want you to be happy, whatever you decide.
[Kojiro's face displays one complicated expression after another, and Kaoru can hardly keep up. Yes, of course they're best friends. They have been since they were kids, back when Kaoru was smaller than their other peers and wound so tight that the littlest thing could reduce him to tears, sending all of the other kids backing away. Except for Kojiro, who was the only one positive and stupid enough not to notice that hanging around someone like him was more trouble than it was worth.
And he's been protecting Kaoru's happiness just as long. Not just to get him to stop crying and making a scene, but going the extra mile to drag Kaoru off on adventures that fear and overthinking would have kept him from otherwise.
So, this shouldn't be news. It shouldn't have Kaoru's mouth falling open. It shouldn't be making it hard for him to find words. And yet.]
...Take me from you? What are you talking about? What am I supposed to be deciding?
[ Visibly flustered. That's a decent descriptor for the state of Kojiro right now. He's huffing. The hand that's come to rest at the back of his neck is now tugging idly at his hair. The fingers on his wine glass are trying to tap out their irritation along the lip of it. His mouth is pressed in a flat line. He doesn't know what to say.
Vulnerability is hard with Kaoru. It's often an exploitable state for him, but Kojiro's never ever been able to build walls or establish boundaries where Kaoru is concerned. They're pushed, they fall, all before they have a chance to firm up in even the smallest way. So how is he supposed to do this? How is he supposed to talk about the fact that he--
Shit. Sometimes, Kojiro thinks he loved Kaoru the moment he saw him. Spotted the crybaby in the pristine smock and thought, Yeah. That one's mine. I'm gonna be with him forever. But how is Kojiro supposed to rectify that against their history? How can he put words to it, without framing it all as betrayal? It's not like he's ever been playing a long game. Just being with Kaoru has always been good enough. This shouldn't matter now, so why does it? ]
Nothing. You're not supposed to be deciding anything.
But-- You talk about him, and it all comes back, y'know? And I don't want to see you hurting like that ever again.
[ Kojiro leans forward, and finally forces himself to meet Kaoru's gaze. ]
I would never do that to you, Kaoru. I'd never hurt you like that. I'd never leave you, or hit you, or call you boring. I'd spoil you and protect you and--
And I'd love you. And I wouldn't be ashamed of it or hide it. So if you wanna be with someone, don't settle for anyone who'd do less.
[Alarm rises in Kaoru's chest, works its way up to settle somewhere at the base of his throat. Why is Kojiro so freaked out? He's supposed to be solid and immovable, able to roll with every punch life throws at him. He's supposed to be so grounded that it doesn't matter when Kaoru isn't, because there will always be someone to keep him on steady ground. But if Kojiro can't stay calm, Kaoru can't either. His breathing grows shallow, and there's nothing keeping him from reading into Kojiro's words way, way too much.
Because... this is all hypothetical, isn't it? He tries to reason it out through the heat in his face and the fog in his brain. Kojiro is saying that he would, if not for the fact that he's so obviously into people who are basically Kaoru's polar opposite. And if they hadn't known each other for so long that if the simple length of their friendship didn't rule Kaoru out as a romantic prospect, all of the times Kojiro has seen him sobbing with his face covered in tears and snot certainly would.
Looking at Kojiro's face is making his chest hurt. So he grabs the wine bottle, scanning the label for the alcohol content.]
Why are you suddenly such a lightweight? Have you not eaten anything today? You're absolutely drunk off your ass, and this isn't even hard liquor.
[That's got to be the only explanation. Kojiro is such dead wasted, and he's not out with some girl hanging on his arm like he should be, so he's... malfunctioning or something. That's all this is.]
[ Kaoru's panic is too easy to identify, and the resultant guilt spiral is enough to center Kojiro. It snaps him out of his short-circuit and redirects to the fact that his lack of chill is contagious, and of all things, Kaoru does not need a panic attack right now. One slow, deep breath later, Kojiro snatches the bottle from Kaoru and tops himself off again. ]
I'm not drunk.
[ And truly, he's not. He's not even sure he could classify himself as tipsy. That's the most tragic part of this. That they're so consistently tight-lipped about it, that they tiptoe and tapdance around the subject like it's lava. As if Kaoru hasn't been able to see the signs since high school, and chosen to patently ignore them. Which is fine. Fantastic.
Honesty can be excused for inebriation, if that's how Kaoru wants to twist it. Kaoru's either never gonna get it, or never gonna want it. And either way, it's fine. Kojiro's kept mum long enough. Tonight's just some kind of perfect storm of loose lips and sinking ships. Blame Adam, blame Kojiro's intense desire to protect Kaoru after his injury; whatever. Kaoru can do what he wants with the information, but he is -- at the very least -- going to know. ]
I would. If you ever gave me the chance to. So it'll really piss me off if you ever settle for less.
[He almost wants to snatch the bottle back just for the principle of the thing, even though his glass is still full. He feels… restless. He doesn’t know what to do with the sensation, so it just translates into frustration.]
Like hell you’re not drunk! Do you even hear yourself? You’re talking like you’re…
[Like he isn’t exclusively interested in fun and outgoing and playful. In girls who giggle when hot guys feed them cheesy lines. In everything that isn’t calculated and reserved.
From Kaoru’s perspective, there has been no dance. Because he hasn’t even allowed himself to believe it was ever on the table in the first place. It hasn’t ever made him any more tolerant of Kojiro sneaking away with the next in a long string of nothing at all like Kaoru, but it’s the best defense mechanism he has under the circumstances.
And it’s breaking down. Fast. He might just end up snapping the stem of the glass in his hand, with how tense he feels right now.]
I can’t give anything to someone who doesn’t want it.
[ Instead of a glass stem snapping, it's the last thread of Kojiro's patience. ]
I've wanted you to give me that chance since we were in high school!
[ And there it is. It hangs in the air between them, ignorant to the tension it's simultaneously created and eased. The one thing he's never outright told Kaoru, the only truth that's never been evident. Because a long string of one-night lovers is simple, easy; no risk, no loss, nothing ventured nor gained. But Kaoru? He's the apex. The unattainable. He's the one shot Kojiro's never been able to take.
After seeing Kaoru with Adam, how could he? Charming, handsome, rich, smooth; Adam had everything Kojiro didn't. Everything that, possibly, Kojiro never would have, no matter how hard he worked for it. Kojiro knows when he's outmatched.
But he also knows that he fucked up. Immediately, the second those words leave his mouth, he knows that they shouldn't have. His heart jumps into his throat. His stomach drops. His fingers go numb. And still, even knowing how completely he fucked up, he still reaches out to rest his hand -- large and unbearably warm -- over Kaoru's. ]
But that's my problem. It always has been. It doesn't mean anything has to change. I'm just happy to have you in my life.
[It takes the room beginning to spin for Kaoru to realise he isn't breathing. Okay... first things first. Inhale, exhale.
Since high school? When Kaoru was finally grimly coming to terms with the fact that his confusing feelings about boys weren't going away?
Repeat. Inhale, exhale.
Kojiro in high school, his voice low and loud and booming when he laughs the way it never was when they were small. Pretending he couldn't sleep so Kaoru could talk to him on the phone into the early hours of the morning when Kaoru, in turn, was pretending he was just bored and that he hadn't called in the first place because he was on the verge of a panic attack.
Both of them, wrecking their sleep cycles in a way that's so easy to do when you're young and reckless and searching for something bigger than your own emotions feel. Making the night their playground.
God, it's been so long since then. And here they are, still keeping each other up after the sun has long fallen.]
You... what?
[Kojiro's hand is so big over his. Heavy. The pressure is comforting enough to keep Kaoru teetering off somewhere dangerous. Kojiro has always done that--provided enough shelter, enough of a security blanket, that Kaoru can push outside of himself a little more. In some twist of dramatic irony, that's why Kaoru has the wherewithal to respond with anger right now.]
Are you serious, you idiot?! No one asked you to be some fucking tragic, self-sacrificing martyr! Do you have any idea how much trouble you could have saved me if you'd said this ages ago?
[ Trouble. There's that word again. It keeps popping up tonight; like the very concept of romantic interaction is some unbalanced equation that Kaoru can't solve, or a sticky line of code he hasn't managed to debug. Relationships are trouble. Kojiro could have saved him trouble. And despite the flare of irritation that Kaoru's anger stokes, trouble is what fits those missing pieces into place.
Not that anything has ever been missing between them. The fragments have always been there, like a mosaic, patiently waiting for Kaoru and Kojiro to put it all together. Their jagged little edges fit like nothing else ever has, clear and beautiful as the morning sun, and the staggering comprehension is quickly settling into Kojiro's awareness. ]
Shut up, Kaoru.
[ Kojiro sets his glass aside, and that frees up his other hand to catch Kaoru's wrist, anchoring him in place (on the off- chance he had any notions about putting distance been them). He swears Kaoru must be able to feel the heartbeat in his fingertips, a frenzied rush that's leaving Kojiro lightheaded and hazy in its wake.
The first time Kojiro felt like this-- He remembers the exact moment. They'd skipped that day; spent the morning sleeping in at Kojiro's place, then went to their spot and skated 'til it after dark. The setting sun was all neon fire that day, rose and gold, like it was reflecting Kaoru into the clouds. Kojiro watched Kaoru skate, back-lit by that neon sky, and realized he'd never felt more peaceful in his whole life. And that no one would ever make him feel like this -- like he's safe, like he's home -- except for Kaoru.
Would it really have mattered? Would it have changed anything between them, if Kojiro told him then? Will it change anything now? ]
Can I kiss you?
[ There's some maddening, aching sincerity behind Kojiro's eyes. ]
You can be mad at me later. Just let me kiss you now.
[He flexes against Kojiro’s grip—not because he’s going to make any actual attempt to get away, but just to feel it. To press into the sensation of someone having a firm hold on him, with no intention nor will to let go.
Relationships are work, is that right? Because, sure, it might be a little work to keep his breathing steady. And to keep his mind from wandering down a hundred dark, twisting paths of speculation about what this might mean, and what might happen next.
But actually, on the whole, it’s easy. Easy to set the wine aside so he can settle a hand on Kojiro’s shoulder. Easy to let his tongue dart out to wet his lips. It is even maddeningly easy to predict the angle at which Kojiro might approach, to imagine in the moment before he even knows how he’s going to answer how it might feel.]
Do it.
[Please, he wants to add. Yesterday. Years ago. But the words don’t come. Instead, he closes his eyes.]
[ Once upon a time, Kojiro was so certain of how this would go.
He had it all planned out, had imagined it a hundred-thousand times over. From his hand on Kaoru's face to the soft meld of their lips, from the taste of his mouth to the plush warmth he'd find there, he was so sure of how it would feel. Moreover, he knew exactly what he would do, how he would touch Kaoru, how much he should push and what should be a pull instead. All worked out, top to beautiful bottom, to totally sweep Kaoru off his feet.
And now, with Kaoru practically demanding a kiss, it all goes out the goddamn window.
Kojiro scrambles forward the second Kaoru consents, lunges to capture his lips and hooks a hand behind his neck to hold him fast. There's an urgency to this, insistence in place of Kojiro's usual collected patience. He consumes Kaoru right away; no hesitation, caution to the wind, pulling over and over at Kaoru's lips just to taste that much more of him. Closer, deeper, like he's struggling to make them one from two.
Thorough as his expections were, they never prepared him for everything that floods him now. Kaoru tastes like spring and red wine, he feels like a hurricane and a nighttime breeze. Their world erupts in pleasure and stars, all a rush of abstract sensation that Kojiro chases with every hungry pull at Kaoru's mouth. Kojiro's languished in innumerable kisses throughout his life, but this? It beats them all, sets him on fire and leaves him melting. Is this what it's really like? It's this much better, all because it means something?
But Kojiro can't overthink it. Hell, he can barely think, period. Reality is officially better than fantasy, and Kojiro wants to lose himself in more and more and more. ]
[Well, he can't say he didn't get what he asked for. He's being held but he's falling, being kept perfectly safe and steady and yet his world is spinning around him.
Maybe he's woken up still chasing the tail end of a dream like this before. Dreams are easy to shoo away, to chalk up to random error of sunconscious thought, to file away as meaningless and bury under the busy hum of everyday life. But he finds now that they've lingered in a corner of his memory, lighting up now to match their outlines against the reality of being kissed by his best friend.
But it's not just being kissed, is it? Because Kaoru is pressing back almost frantically, dragging Kojiro down closer, carving scratches into his bare shoulder because the goddamned idiot doesn't know how to wear a fucking shirt.
He was promised he's allowed to be angry later, so he pushes that to the background for now. No thinking about time wasted, or about ugly, shapeless jealousy. For now, he only lets in the sensation of Kojiro eating him up like he's running out of time. The heat of his mouth. New data collected in the form of what it feels like to touch, really touch, the muscles that shift under so much sunkissed skin.
It's so much. It's overwhelming. And yet he wants more.
He lets out a small sound that he will later insist was not a whimper, thank you, and nips at Kojiro's lower lip. Coaxing. Beckoning.]
[ If Kaoru hadn't come at him like this -- claws out and teeth gnashing -- Kojiro might have been able to dial it back. Calm the storm enough to make room for reason, at least. They should talk about this, shouldn't they? Figure it out, draw some lines, work out the logistics. As if the boundaries between them have ever been good for anything but crossing.
But there's something lurking there, creeping in the wake of the welts that Kaoru's scratching into his shoulder and hiding behind the sharp edge of canines in his lip. Something desperate and feral. Like he's trying to take Kojiro apart, like he's digging into the meat of all this, sinking his teeth in and still aching for more. And Kojiro's loathe to leave him wanting.
Kojiro's winds a possessive arm around Kaoru's waist, and his grip tightens at the back of Kaoru's neck. It keeps him close, practically flush against Kojiro's broad chest, to hold Kaoru into that devouring kiss while he moves them both in one swift pull. Because Kaoru always needs some illusion of control, and in Kojiro's lap feels like the most natural place for him to be. And if he wants to protest the manhandling, he'll have to fight Kojiro's tongue for the chance to speak. It's diving between Kaoru's lips, drawing him out, coaxing him to meet Kojiro blow for blow.
Maybe Kaoru will argue the notion that he's vocally enjoying this, but Kojiro's unapologetic about it. He's all sighs, hitched breaths, soft huffs, falling hot and quick against Kaoru's mouth. Losing his cool, damaging his calm. Even if he were conscious of it, there would be no stifling them. Because this--
It's a culmination. Finally, Kaoru. Finally. That's all his pleasure-soaked mind has room for. ]
[Yeah, no. If Kaoru isn’t allowed to overthink this situation, he certainly won’t allow Kojiro to move in on his territory and start applying logic either. It feels far too good to have all of that turned off for once. He’d rather hear Kojiro sighing into his mouth than the usual news ticker running through his mind, supplying every possibility of what might go wrong.
So when he does finally put in enough fight to break free from the kiss, it’s only so he can attach his mouth elsewhere, worry bruises right down the column of Kojiro’s neck and across one collarbone. There, now maybe that will finally make him think twice about bearing so much skin in public, at least for a little while.
Mine. The thought drifts through his mind, unbidden. It isn’t even shaped like a question; it’s a declaration pressed into Kojiro’s skin. The bruises might fade over time, but the intent behind them is indelible.]
[ There's something vicious about this, almost mean. It's sure as hell not subtle, laying his claim like this, but Kojiro can't find the words or the will to call him out on it. Instead, his head tips back, makes room for the insistent push of Kaoru's teeth. Fine. Let him pull a trail of bruises through Kojiro's throat. Let him mark his territory with a necklace of hickies. It'll serve as its own kind of reminder; Kojiro will see them -- and smile -- every time he looks in the mirror (probably for the next week, at least, if Kaoru's zeal is anything to go by).
Kojiro's hand drifts up from Kaoru's neck, thick fingers straying to sink into that mass of rosy hair. It's silken, and this too both meets and exceeds his expectations. Did he imagine Kaoru's hair was soft? Yes. Has he always ached to push his fingers through it, just like this? Fuck yes. Did he expect to be momentarily distracted by the texture? Absolutely not.
This felt like the eye of a storm the second Kaoru's mouth dropped to his neck. Kojiro's lips are still swollen from Kaoru's kisses, but they're hungry to have them back again. Kaoru's pulling wave after wave of pleasure through him, testing the frayed edges of Kojiro's patience, winding him tighter until, again--
It snaps.
Kojiro's hand tightens to a fist around the roots of Kaoru's hair, anchoring him to the bruise he's currently worrying into Kojiro's shoulder. Maybe it'll keep him close, steady, when Kojiro's other hand drifts from his low back over the rise of his hip -- all maddeningly impeded by his obi -- and down the outside of his thigh. His fingers go stiff at Kaoru's knee, pushing past the split in his kimono to find bare skin instead.
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beefyspaghetti) wrote2021-05-08 06:09 pm
no subject
[ He says this, as if Kojiro's company is the last thing Kaoru wants. As if either of them would rather do anything else with their free time. As if Kojiro's not at his happiest (and most whole) at Kaoru's side. Maybe that feeling isn't mutual, but it's not like they express these things to each other, so context clues are all Kojiro can draw from. ]
But like you said, it's not like you're cruising for company, even though you could stand to get laid, so--
[ Kojiro shrugs, and holds his glass out to Kaoru. ]
Toast to getting wine wasted together?
no subject
[He glares just long enough to make Kojiro think he might leave him hanging, just as punishment for that dig at his sex life.
But in the end... there's nowhere he'd rather be than here, either. He'd hardly keep inviting himself over if this wasn't singularly comforting in a way that is so second-nature by now, he hardly even thinks about it.
So in the end, he does clink his glass to Kojiro's before drinking deeply again.]
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[ Kojiro's only barely stifling his laughter while he follows suit, shoulders shaking silently through a long sip of his wine. The banter's always easy, practically automatic by this point. But his glass is almost empty now and--
Why the hell didn't they bring the bottles in here? Kojiro curses quietly and rolls off the couch, back to the kitchenette, secures both bottles, and sets them on the coffee table when he returns. ]
So who's this amontillado you're talking about?
[ He's asking while he tops off his own glass, then Kaoru's, and falling back into an even-more-ungainly flop on the couch. At least it's something to distract from the fact that he's pointedly refusing to make eye contact with Kaoru, at least for a few busy moments. ]
If it's Adam again, you're the one getting roundhouse kicked.
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At least, he would be able to if not for the inconvenient questions that he can no longer brush off with the excuse that he needs more booze. His tongue is pleasantly numb, and his brain is following suit right around the edges. He lets out a little huff, but gives in anyway.]
Why even ask, then, if you don't want to know?
[He knows that even tipsy, he's fast enough that he doesn't have to worry about Kojiro making good on that threat. Even though, honestly, maybe someone should kick him at this point.]
He wants to "apologise," whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean. I blocked his number.
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They all take their lives in their hands at S. It's not supposed to be safe, and that's honestly part of the appeal. But what Adam did to Kaoru? That's not excusable, and it's not forgivable, no matter how badly he wants to apologize. ]
Yeah, that'll work until he gets a wild hair up his ass and shows up at your place with roses.
[ They both know he'd do it. But-- Shit, maybe he's not being fair. It's not Kojiro's call. If Adam wants to apologize, if Kaoru wants him back, Kojiro has no grounds or right to stand in the way of that, no matter how much it crawls the fuck under his skin. The sigh he heaves is just chock-full of irritation, lingering on the confirmation and hating Adam just a little more for it, and he passes a hand briefly over his face. ]
Just-- if you do go back to him, be careful. If I've gotta watch him hurt you a third time, I really am gonna kill him.
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[And this is why he needed to be drunk for this. Seeing the anger flash behind Kojiro's eyes makes it so much more difficult for Kaoru to try to approach any of this from a place of cold, hard logic. It makes his already complicated feelings that much more complicated.
Besides, he's not nearly as sure as Kojiro seems to be that Adam would actually follow through in any meaningful way. Asking for a chance to apologise has got to be some kind of mind game, or else just a way of easing his own conscience so he can get on with his life. Adam's grand gestures are for whatever shiny new thing hasn't failed to meet his expectations yet, and that ship sailed with Kaoru long ago.]
I'm not going back. And you're not landing yourself in prison.
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[ As if to say, he'll believe it when he sees it. Not that Kojiro honestly believes Kaoru would make a consciably bad decision; Kaoru's practically a grandmaster at overthinking, and he needs to analyze every possible scenario into a stranglehold before settling on the best option. He's got it all down to a fine art. But they both know how charismatic Adam can be, how changeable are his whims, and how expertly he can twist anyone into susceptibility.
Kojiro finishes off his glass, and leans over to pour a third. ]
You've always deserved better than he's able to give you, anyway.
[ Better than Adam's capable of giving him, is what he really means. The man appears for all intents and purposes to be richer than God, and if love were superficial, maybe that would be enough. Granted, it's been almost a decade since they were close, but Kojiro's not entirely convinced that Adam has the capacity to love people. That's the biggest con of his whole Matador of Love shtick. How can you love someone, when you destroy everything you touch? How can anything grow when you're salting the earth in your wake? ]
Seems like you need someone to get you out of that pretty little head of yours. Not put you deeper in it.
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[It's a noncommittal sound, but that's more than he would have given one drink ago. Cold sober, he's often convinced that he doesn't need anyone. And if anyone wants him to need them that badly, they'll initiate the chase themselves. Thus, the virtual standstill that his love life settles into most of the time.
But Kojiro makes a decent point about deserving. Because, hasn't he made something of himself? Built a decent life out of less-than-ideal circumstances? Sure, he doesn't need anyone new in his life. But he doesn't technically need antique horse hair brushes with polished ebony handles or fragrances in ornate glass bottles either.
He sighs, and drains the rest of his glass so he can pour more wine. He might have already been ahead by a drink and a half when he arrived, but his competitive side won't allow even the illusion of Kojiro out-drinking him.]
It seems like a lot of trouble.
[But his tone is leaving the realm of "how dare you even suggest I need to get laid" and creeping right into "talk me into it" territory.]
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[ There's an implication there. One that Kojiro’s not quite inebriated enough to elaborate on. Something between other people are generally a lot of trouble and you're worth the trouble. He always has been, but Kaoru doesn't need the reminder, least of all from Kojiro. God forbid they beleaguer the whole--
Whatever. The less they say about it -- the less Kojiro knows about Kaoru's love life, or lack thereof -- the better.
Except-- Fuck, this is just making him itch in the worst way. He's not even sure how much he can blame on the wine. It's not like he's a lightweight; he's the size of an ox and they're drinking together practically every night. But Adam's such a sore spot, and Kojiro has coped poorly with his re-emergence from the start. So -- yeah -- maybe none of his business. But all the same, maybe hearing what he already knows will help to cement it for Kaoru. ]
Look. [ Kojiro shifts to face Kaoru, and pulls his legs up to cross on the couch. ] You don't need anyone else to give your life meaning. You know that. You're successful, smart, gorgeous, talented. You've got a hell of a lot going for you. You could have anyone you wanted.
So if you do decide you want company, don't settle. Whoever you end up with, they should spoil you. Not with things, I know you don't need all that. But you need someone to crowd all the doubt out of your mind. Never let you feel anything but totally loved.
...it's what-- [ It's what I'd do for you. It's almost there. Almost real. He almost says it. But that's the last bit of truth that either of them need right now. Then again, Kojiro can't quite manage to look Kaoru in the eye; maybe that says enough. ]
It's the bare minimum of what you deserve.
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He blinks when Kojiro shifts position. And then... maybe Kaoru is just flushed from the wine, but it's beginning to feel too warm in here. Kojiro does live above a kitchen that burns hot all day, after all. That's probably what he's feeling as Kojiro rattles off that string of praise that can't possibly just be empty bullshit. Because Kojiro has never once given Kaoru sweet words just to make him feel better. He's an open book in a number of ways that Kaoru can't attain for himself.
So then, why is he glancing away like that?]
Why are you so invested in this?
[A dozen calculations are running in his wine-numb brain at once: Does Kojiro want someone to mutually discuss hookups with that badly? Or does he need Kaoru busy with someone else so he'll stop showing up to mooch free food so often? Is he no longer satisfied with his own love life, so now he has to play matchmaker and meddle in someone else's?
No, none of that adds up.]
What could you possibly stand to gain?
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[ Just what? Kojiro flounders. Hindsight is a bitch, and any way he frames his little speech, it sounds suspicious. Not a conversation they should have over wine, clearly. Kojiro sighs, and scrubs a hand through his still-damp hair, struggling to work out what he's saying, what the point is, what won't make everything too obvious. ]
You're my best friend. I want you to be happy.
[ That came out way too sullen; low and mumbly, like he's not entirely committed to it. And Kojiro hardly ever flushes when he drinks, but there's red creeping up across his nose and his cheeks. He practically chugs the rest of his current glass, and lets it hang empty from his fingertips for a few thoughtful moments. Take two; try this again, Nanjo. ]
I'm not invested. You're just-- I'll be damned if I let some loser take you from me.
[ Wow! That sounded even worse! Fantastic! Kojiro's shoulders tense to a hard square through a frustrated growl. His face is burning and he has absolutely no means of explanation for this. At least, nothing that won't keep making the situation worse. ]
I-- Shit, Kaoru. I don't know what I'm trying to say, okay? I just want you to be happy, whatever you decide.
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And he's been protecting Kaoru's happiness just as long. Not just to get him to stop crying and making a scene, but going the extra mile to drag Kaoru off on adventures that fear and overthinking would have kept him from otherwise.
So, this shouldn't be news. It shouldn't have Kaoru's mouth falling open. It shouldn't be making it hard for him to find words. And yet.]
...Take me from you? What are you talking about? What am I supposed to be deciding?
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Vulnerability is hard with Kaoru. It's often an exploitable state for him, but Kojiro's never ever been able to build walls or establish boundaries where Kaoru is concerned. They're pushed, they fall, all before they have a chance to firm up in even the smallest way. So how is he supposed to do this? How is he supposed to talk about the fact that he--
Shit. Sometimes, Kojiro thinks he loved Kaoru the moment he saw him. Spotted the crybaby in the pristine smock and thought, Yeah. That one's mine. I'm gonna be with him forever. But how is Kojiro supposed to rectify that against their history? How can he put words to it, without framing it all as betrayal? It's not like he's ever been playing a long game. Just being with Kaoru has always been good enough. This shouldn't matter now, so why does it? ]
Nothing. You're not supposed to be deciding anything.
But-- You talk about him, and it all comes back, y'know? And I don't want to see you hurting like that ever again.
[ Kojiro leans forward, and finally forces himself to meet Kaoru's gaze. ]
I would never do that to you, Kaoru. I'd never hurt you like that. I'd never leave you, or hit you, or call you boring. I'd spoil you and protect you and--
And I'd love you. And I wouldn't be ashamed of it or hide it. So if you wanna be with someone, don't settle for anyone who'd do less.
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Because... this is all hypothetical, isn't it? He tries to reason it out through the heat in his face and the fog in his brain. Kojiro is saying that he would, if not for the fact that he's so obviously into people who are basically Kaoru's polar opposite. And if they hadn't known each other for so long that if the simple length of their friendship didn't rule Kaoru out as a romantic prospect, all of the times Kojiro has seen him sobbing with his face covered in tears and snot certainly would.
Looking at Kojiro's face is making his chest hurt. So he grabs the wine bottle, scanning the label for the alcohol content.]
Why are you suddenly such a lightweight? Have you not eaten anything today? You're absolutely drunk off your ass, and this isn't even hard liquor.
[That's got to be the only explanation. Kojiro is such dead wasted, and he's not out with some girl hanging on his arm like he should be, so he's... malfunctioning or something. That's all this is.]
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I'm not drunk.
[ And truly, he's not. He's not even sure he could classify himself as tipsy. That's the most tragic part of this. That they're so consistently tight-lipped about it, that they tiptoe and tapdance around the subject like it's lava. As if Kaoru hasn't been able to see the signs since high school, and chosen to patently ignore them. Which is fine. Fantastic.
Honesty can be excused for inebriation, if that's how Kaoru wants to twist it. Kaoru's either never gonna get it, or never gonna want it. And either way, it's fine. Kojiro's kept mum long enough. Tonight's just some kind of perfect storm of loose lips and sinking ships. Blame Adam, blame Kojiro's intense desire to protect Kaoru after his injury; whatever. Kaoru can do what he wants with the information, but he is -- at the very least -- going to know. ]
I would. If you ever gave me the chance to. So it'll really piss me off if you ever settle for less.
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Like hell you’re not drunk! Do you even hear yourself? You’re talking like you’re…
[Like he isn’t exclusively interested in fun and outgoing and playful. In girls who giggle when hot guys feed them cheesy lines. In everything that isn’t calculated and reserved.
From Kaoru’s perspective, there has been no dance. Because he hasn’t even allowed himself to believe it was ever on the table in the first place. It hasn’t ever made him any more tolerant of Kojiro sneaking away with the next in a long string of nothing at all like Kaoru, but it’s the best defense mechanism he has under the circumstances.
And it’s breaking down. Fast. He might just end up snapping the stem of the glass in his hand, with how tense he feels right now.]
I can’t give anything to someone who doesn’t want it.
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I've wanted you to give me that chance since we were in high school!
[ And there it is. It hangs in the air between them, ignorant to the tension it's simultaneously created and eased. The one thing he's never outright told Kaoru, the only truth that's never been evident. Because a long string of one-night lovers is simple, easy; no risk, no loss, nothing ventured nor gained. But Kaoru? He's the apex. The unattainable. He's the one shot Kojiro's never been able to take.
After seeing Kaoru with Adam, how could he? Charming, handsome, rich, smooth; Adam had everything Kojiro didn't. Everything that, possibly, Kojiro never would have, no matter how hard he worked for it. Kojiro knows when he's outmatched.
But he also knows that he fucked up. Immediately, the second those words leave his mouth, he knows that they shouldn't have. His heart jumps into his throat. His stomach drops. His fingers go numb. And still, even knowing how completely he fucked up, he still reaches out to rest his hand -- large and unbearably warm -- over Kaoru's. ]
But that's my problem. It always has been. It doesn't mean anything has to change. I'm just happy to have you in my life.
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Since high school? When Kaoru was finally grimly coming to terms with the fact that his confusing feelings about boys weren't going away?
Repeat. Inhale, exhale.
Kojiro in high school, his voice low and loud and booming when he laughs the way it never was when they were small. Pretending he couldn't sleep so Kaoru could talk to him on the phone into the early hours of the morning when Kaoru, in turn, was pretending he was just bored and that he hadn't called in the first place because he was on the verge of a panic attack.
Both of them, wrecking their sleep cycles in a way that's so easy to do when you're young and reckless and searching for something bigger than your own emotions feel. Making the night their playground.
God, it's been so long since then. And here they are, still keeping each other up after the sun has long fallen.]
You... what?
[Kojiro's hand is so big over his. Heavy. The pressure is comforting enough to keep Kaoru teetering off somewhere dangerous. Kojiro has always done that--provided enough shelter, enough of a security blanket, that Kaoru can push outside of himself a little more. In some twist of dramatic irony, that's why Kaoru has the wherewithal to respond with anger right now.]
Are you serious, you idiot?! No one asked you to be some fucking tragic, self-sacrificing martyr! Do you have any idea how much trouble you could have saved me if you'd said this ages ago?
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Not that anything has ever been missing between them. The fragments have always been there, like a mosaic, patiently waiting for Kaoru and Kojiro to put it all together. Their jagged little edges fit like nothing else ever has, clear and beautiful as the morning sun, and the staggering comprehension is quickly settling into Kojiro's awareness. ]
Shut up, Kaoru.
[ Kojiro sets his glass aside, and that frees up his other hand to catch Kaoru's wrist, anchoring him in place (on the off- chance he had any notions about putting distance been them). He swears Kaoru must be able to feel the heartbeat in his fingertips, a frenzied rush that's leaving Kojiro lightheaded and hazy in its wake.
The first time Kojiro felt like this-- He remembers the exact moment. They'd skipped that day; spent the morning sleeping in at Kojiro's place, then went to their spot and skated 'til it after dark. The setting sun was all neon fire that day, rose and gold, like it was reflecting Kaoru into the clouds. Kojiro watched Kaoru skate, back-lit by that neon sky, and realized he'd never felt more peaceful in his whole life. And that no one would ever make him feel like this -- like he's safe, like he's home -- except for Kaoru.
Would it really have mattered? Would it have changed anything between them, if Kojiro told him then? Will it change anything now? ]
Can I kiss you?
[ There's some maddening, aching sincerity behind Kojiro's eyes. ]
You can be mad at me later. Just let me kiss you now.
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Relationships are work, is that right? Because, sure, it might be a little work to keep his breathing steady. And to keep his mind from wandering down a hundred dark, twisting paths of speculation about what this might mean, and what might happen next.
But actually, on the whole, it’s easy. Easy to set the wine aside so he can settle a hand on Kojiro’s shoulder. Easy to let his tongue dart out to wet his lips. It is even maddeningly easy to predict the angle at which Kojiro might approach, to imagine in the moment before he even knows how he’s going to answer how it might feel.]
Do it.
[Please, he wants to add. Yesterday. Years ago. But the words don’t come. Instead, he closes his eyes.]
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He had it all planned out, had imagined it a hundred-thousand times over. From his hand on Kaoru's face to the soft meld of their lips, from the taste of his mouth to the plush warmth he'd find there, he was so sure of how it would feel. Moreover, he knew exactly what he would do, how he would touch Kaoru, how much he should push and what should be a pull instead. All worked out, top to beautiful bottom, to totally sweep Kaoru off his feet.
And now, with Kaoru practically demanding a kiss, it all goes out the goddamn window.
Kojiro scrambles forward the second Kaoru consents, lunges to capture his lips and hooks a hand behind his neck to hold him fast. There's an urgency to this, insistence in place of Kojiro's usual collected patience. He consumes Kaoru right away; no hesitation, caution to the wind, pulling over and over at Kaoru's lips just to taste that much more of him. Closer, deeper, like he's struggling to make them one from two.
Thorough as his expections were, they never prepared him for everything that floods him now. Kaoru tastes like spring and red wine, he feels like a hurricane and a nighttime breeze. Their world erupts in pleasure and stars, all a rush of abstract sensation that Kojiro chases with every hungry pull at Kaoru's mouth. Kojiro's languished in innumerable kisses throughout his life, but this? It beats them all, sets him on fire and leaves him melting. Is this what it's really like? It's this much better, all because it means something?
But Kojiro can't overthink it. Hell, he can barely think, period. Reality is officially better than fantasy, and Kojiro wants to lose himself in more and more and more. ]
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Maybe he's woken up still chasing the tail end of a dream like this before. Dreams are easy to shoo away, to chalk up to random error of sunconscious thought, to file away as meaningless and bury under the busy hum of everyday life. But he finds now that they've lingered in a corner of his memory, lighting up now to match their outlines against the reality of being kissed by his best friend.
But it's not just being kissed, is it? Because Kaoru is pressing back almost frantically, dragging Kojiro down closer, carving scratches into his bare shoulder because the goddamned idiot doesn't know how to wear a fucking shirt.
He was promised he's allowed to be angry later, so he pushes that to the background for now. No thinking about time wasted, or about ugly, shapeless jealousy. For now, he only lets in the sensation of Kojiro eating him up like he's running out of time. The heat of his mouth. New data collected in the form of what it feels like to touch, really touch, the muscles that shift under so much sunkissed skin.
It's so much. It's overwhelming. And yet he wants more.
He lets out a small sound that he will later insist was not a whimper, thank you, and nips at Kojiro's lower lip. Coaxing. Beckoning.]
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But there's something lurking there, creeping in the wake of the welts that Kaoru's scratching into his shoulder and hiding behind the sharp edge of canines in his lip. Something desperate and feral. Like he's trying to take Kojiro apart, like he's digging into the meat of all this, sinking his teeth in and still aching for more. And Kojiro's loathe to leave him wanting.
Kojiro's winds a possessive arm around Kaoru's waist, and his grip tightens at the back of Kaoru's neck. It keeps him close, practically flush against Kojiro's broad chest, to hold Kaoru into that devouring kiss while he moves them both in one swift pull. Because Kaoru always needs some illusion of control, and in Kojiro's lap feels like the most natural place for him to be. And if he wants to protest the manhandling, he'll have to fight Kojiro's tongue for the chance to speak. It's diving between Kaoru's lips, drawing him out, coaxing him to meet Kojiro blow for blow.
Maybe Kaoru will argue the notion that he's vocally enjoying this, but Kojiro's unapologetic about it. He's all sighs, hitched breaths, soft huffs, falling hot and quick against Kaoru's mouth. Losing his cool, damaging his calm. Even if he were conscious of it, there would be no stifling them. Because this--
It's a culmination. Finally, Kaoru. Finally. That's all his pleasure-soaked mind has room for. ]
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So when he does finally put in enough fight to break free from the kiss, it’s only so he can attach his mouth elsewhere, worry bruises right down the column of Kojiro’s neck and across one collarbone. There, now maybe that will finally make him think twice about bearing so much skin in public, at least for a little while.
Mine. The thought drifts through his mind, unbidden. It isn’t even shaped like a question; it’s a declaration pressed into Kojiro’s skin. The bruises might fade over time, but the intent behind them is indelible.]
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[ There's something vicious about this, almost mean. It's sure as hell not subtle, laying his claim like this, but Kojiro can't find the words or the will to call him out on it. Instead, his head tips back, makes room for the insistent push of Kaoru's teeth. Fine. Let him pull a trail of bruises through Kojiro's throat. Let him mark his territory with a necklace of hickies. It'll serve as its own kind of reminder; Kojiro will see them -- and smile -- every time he looks in the mirror (probably for the next week, at least, if Kaoru's zeal is anything to go by).
Kojiro's hand drifts up from Kaoru's neck, thick fingers straying to sink into that mass of rosy hair. It's silken, and this too both meets and exceeds his expectations. Did he imagine Kaoru's hair was soft? Yes. Has he always ached to push his fingers through it, just like this? Fuck yes. Did he expect to be momentarily distracted by the texture? Absolutely not.
This felt like the eye of a storm the second Kaoru's mouth dropped to his neck. Kojiro's lips are still swollen from Kaoru's kisses, but they're hungry to have them back again. Kaoru's pulling wave after wave of pleasure through him, testing the frayed edges of Kojiro's patience, winding him tighter until, again--
It snaps.
Kojiro's hand tightens to a fist around the roots of Kaoru's hair, anchoring him to the bruise he's currently worrying into Kojiro's shoulder. Maybe it'll keep him close, steady, when Kojiro's other hand drifts from his low back over the rise of his hip -- all maddeningly impeded by his obi -- and down the outside of his thigh. His fingers go stiff at Kaoru's knee, pushing past the split in his kimono to find bare skin instead.
This-- It's too much, too fast, but--
Fuck, Kaoru... I love you. I've always loved you.
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Sorry for the delay; notifs chronically suck
NO WORRIES, notifs love to fail
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WELCOME BACK this was so delightful to see in my inbox =']
Ty ty <3 bless your patience
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this can probably be the bow on this thread, if you're good with that