Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It wasn’t something Kaoru advertised, but it was a quiet personal pride of his that he’d never rejected or backed down from a beef. In fact, one of the few who knew this was Kojiro, but Kaoru didn’t go shouting it from the rooftops—that was just asking to get challenged to outrageous bets.

It was getting to the point, though, where he thought he might need to break his ten-year streak. Not because of outrageous stakes, but rather, this was just getting too tedious!

“Cherry, I challenge you to a beef! If I win, you have to go out with me!” one of his fangirls declared passionately, fire in her eyes. They had an audience; S was busy tonight, and her proclamation was met with jeers and whistles. Kaoru felt his expression darken. Not again.

“Kaoru, just turn her down,” Kojiro muttered under his breath from next to him. “Your streak isn’t worth this.”

“Don’t call me that at S,” Kaoru snapped back, crossing his arms across his chest, fingers tapping agitatedly against his forearms. “And this is all your fault, anyway!”

“You could just turn them down,” Kojiro protested, voice rising to match his. “Don’t put this on me!”

“You’re the one who gave them the idea,” Kaoru said with frustration.

“You’re the one who’s letting his pride get in the way of common sense!”

“Oh, like I need you to lecture me on pride-“

“Hey, are you guys going to race, or what?” shouted a bystander from the audience, and Kaoru blinked, remembering the fidgeting girl in front of them and the skaters loitering around. “Some of us want to use the track too, so get on with it!”

Kaoru sighed again. This was the third challenger just from tonight; at this point, he wouldn’t have any energy left to race anyone he might actually want to go up against. For the past two months or so, every time he showed up at S, it was these types of challenges nonstop.

“All right,” Kaoru told the girl. “But if I win, you can’t challenge me or ask me out again. That’s my wager. Are you prepared?”

The girl nodded reluctantly, clutching her skateboard tightly. With all the girls challenging Kaoru to races, he’d started making that his wager when he’d started to notice familiar faces amongst his challengers. Maybe, if nothing else, he could finally have some peace after he beat everyone at least once. He gestured for the girl to start the track, not bothering to wait for the start buzzer.

“Kaoru,” Kojiro protested, looking frustrated.

“Not! At! S!” Kaoru shouted back, taking a running start after the girl. She wasn’t a bad skater, but Kaoru was better—he wouldn’t be promising any dates tonight.

ooo

It all started, as many things did, with Kojiro. About two months ago, it had been a normal night at S. Kaoru had been minding his own business when Kojiro came over to say hello, and as always, they’d started bickering. “Stuck up four-eyes,” etc., etc., “Muscle-brained gorilla,” “Robot maniac,” etc., etc., and so on and so forth. The scene was set, unbeknownst to both of them, for disaster.

“Don’t insult Carla,” Kaoru shrieked; they were at that point of the argument. Nothing got Kaoru quite so worked up as when Kojiro came after his beloved AI skateboard.

“Then stop giving your machine a girl’s name, it’s creepy!”

“Carla is not a machine,” Kaoru insisted.

“You can’t pretend she’s your girlfriend just ‘cause you can’t get one!” Kojiro retorted.

“It’s not that I can’t get one, I just choose not to! Something you wouldn’t understand-“

“Sounds like an excuse from someone who can’t!”

“Shut up!”

“You shut up!”

“Cherry,” a loud, feminine voice suddenly interrupted them. A pretty girl, maybe around eighteen, stepped in front of them, causing both of them to blink in surprise. “Don’t listen to Joe! I’ll go out with you!”

She was blushing furiously, hands clutched tight in front of her. The sudden cut off of Cherry and Joe’s bickering caused several people to look over; she’d also had to shout quite loudly to be heard over their argument. Kaoru was a bit taken aback; it was rare for his fans to approach him like this. She was brave, he’d give her that.

“Don’t you think you’re a bit young for him, sweetheart?” Kojiro said wryly, giving her an unimpressed look.

“I’m nineteen,” she protested, her face getting even redder. “And don’t call me sweetheart! I got into skateboarding because I loved watching Cherry skate. I think your skating is very beautiful! I really like you. Please go out with me!”

“I’m flattered,” Kaoru told her after a pause, not gently but not unkindly. “But I’m not looking to date right now.”

“Please give me a chance,” she insisted, lowering into a bow. Her long hair hung down and hid her face. “I promise my feelings are sincere.”

Kaoru felt uncomfortable; he really didn’t like when someone he rejected kept insisting. He also didn’t want to be cruel to her in front of an audience, though. Without meaning to, he glanced over briefly at Kojiro, who met his eyes. Immediately, Kaoru felt embarrassed; they weren’t kids anymore, he wasn’t a crybaby who needed Kojiro to back him up anymore. He quickly turned away and opened his mouth to respond, but Kojiro stepped in before he could.

“I don’t think Kao- Cherry, I mean, don’t kick me,” Kojiro inched out of Kaoru’s reach. He cleared his throat, but continued gently. “I don’t think Cherry would date anyone who can’t match his skating. Better luck next time.”

“Then, please race me,” the girl said, a determined spark in her eyes. She looked at Cherry hopefully. “I challenge you to a beef. If I win the race, please go on a date with me. I’ll show you my skating is sincere!”

“Wait, that’s not what I meant,” Kojiro said, and Kaoru’s eye twitched.

The thing was, Kaoru really had never turned down a beef. Not since they’d started S at age fifteen. He’d accepted every bet. He’d risked more than he can remember—his skateboard, his hair, tattoos, piercings, money, humiliation, the list went on. Luckily, he’d won more than not, and as they’d aged, the bets calmed; adults had more to lose, and Kaoru was distant with most of the members of S aside from Kojiro… But back in the day, even before S, he’d even dyed his hair pink because he’d lost a bet to Kojiro. Of course, he’d ended up liking it and kept it, but at the time he’d been horrified he’d lost. He’d worn a hat for days, until one day, he’d overheard Kojiro complaining to a friend that it wasn’t fair Kaoru looked good with pink hair when losing the bet was supposed to be embarrassing.

“Let Cherry speak for himself,” the girl told Kojiro sternly. “Cherry, do you accept my beef?”

The audience held their breath. The normal chatter had died down to low whispers; no one had ever asked Cherry out so boldly before. Kaoru felt a trickle of sweat down the back of his neck. He knew it was stupid. No one even knew he’d never backed down from a race, except for Kojiro…

…Who was watching him.

No, he wasn’t a stupid teen anymore, but it seemed he was just as stupid an adult. And it wasn’t like she was asking him to risk Carla. He was an older, more experienced skater—did he want to ruin his streak, over a girl he could almost certainly beat, with stakes that were so tame compared to his delinquent days?

“I accept,” Kaoru said, ignoring Kojiro’s protests of “Kaoru” and the way the audience exploded. Kaoru sighed. Didn’t everyone have better things to do?

ooo

Fast forward two months, and here they were, Kaoru never getting a moment’s peace. His sanctuary had been completely disrupted, as girls and boys alike took inspiration and started challenging Kaoru to beefs.

“You know they won’t leave you alone until you start saying no,” Kojiro sighed as Kaoru approached him. Instead of his usual outfit, today Kaoru had come in nondescript clothes, a dark hoodie pulled up to conceal his pink hair. Kojiro was standing with the kids, who were all chattering excitedly. Kaoru decided to use them as camouflage, hoping he’d be mistaken as another one of the teens as he hunched his shoulders and tugged his hoodie higher.

“Hi Cherry,” Reki said brightly, Langa offering a wave. Miya gave him a nod.

“Tell me if you see someone coming towards me,” Kaoru greeted them, eyes nervously darting around. “I just want one night of peace. Just one.”

“Why don’t you tell them no, if it bothers you so much?” Langa asked curiously. Kaoru scowled.

“Kaoru’s never turned down a beef,” Kojiro tells them matter-of-factly.

“Don’t go spreading that around!” Kaoru hissed, giving Kojiro a shove.

“Don’t push me,” Kojiro whined. “It’s just the kids; they’re not going to challenge you to anything crazy.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Kaoru said, pointing his finger threateningly at each of the children in turn. “Or I will know, and I will find you.”

The kids all nodded together rapidly in unison, looking intimidated. Reki clutched onto Langa’s arm for good measure.

“Don’t scare the kids,” Kojiro scolded. “Anyway, at this point, I think the damage is done. Ten years is a good run. Even I’ve turned down some bets over the years.”

“Eh, you have?” Reki exclaimed. Miya and Langa both looked at Kojiro as well, wide-eyed.

“Sure,” Kojiro said. “There’s some things not worth betting on. One of the reasons Adam and I don’t get along is that when we were seventeen, he challenged me to a beef saying that if he won, I had to stop being friends with Kaoru. I wasn’t willing to risk it.”

“What?” Kaoru blurted out, shocked. The kids all turned to look at him, questioning.

“Why are you surprised?” Miya asked, sounding unimpressed.

“He- You,” Kaoru started, looking away in embarrassment. “You never told me that.”

Kojiro shrugged. “I turned him down and he moved not long after, so nothing ever came of it. But if you want my advice, kids, don’t take bets on people and relationships. It’s not fair and it’s not worth it.”

Kaoru looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling a bit juvenile and embarrassed. Sometimes he forgot that Kojiro could be mature and respectable, in his own way.

It hurt to know that Adam did that, but then, he knew Adam wasn’t the same person that Kaoru had thought he was. A skateboard to the face really worked as a stark reminder.

But more than feeling hurt, Kaoru actually felt rather secretly pleased. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he felt deeply glad that his friendship was worth more to Kojiro than his pride.

“I wouldn’t have taken the bet either,” Kaoru muttered, tugging his hoodie down over his eyes.

“What?” Kojiro asked, not hearing him. Kaoru flushed, not willing to repeat.

“He said he wouldn’t have taken the bet either,” Miya said, rolling his eyes. “Get your ears checked, old man.”

Kojiro smiled at Kaoru, before the second part of Miya’s comment registered.

“Who’re you callin’ old, kid?” Kojiro demanded, smile turning annoyed, reaching out to give Miya a noogie. Miya danced out of the way.

“If Shadow is old, then you’re ancient,” Miya said, snickering meanly. “What, you think just ‘cause you’re hot you don’t age?”

“You little brat-“

While Kaoru was distracted by the revelation and the bickering, unfortunately, they were approached unnoticed.

“Cherry, I challenge you to a beef!” announced a young man, appearing out of nowhere. He pointed directly at Kaoru. “If I win, go out with me!”

“How did you know I was here,” Kaoru groaned. Miya poked his head out from behind Langa, where he’d been using him as a body shield to protect from Kojiro’s attempted headlock.

The man snorted. “You’re always with Joe, so I was going to ask him where you were! And go figure, here you were.”

“Maybe I should start avoiding the lug,” Kaoru muttered, rubbing his forehead. He felt the start of a headache.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Kojiro said, looking offended. Kaoru unwillingly felt a small sting of guilt, but didn’t acknowledge it.

“It’s your fault, anyway,” Kaoru said again. “If you’re offended, why don’t you fix it?”

Kaoru regretted his sniping immediately when Kojiro got a specific look in his eyes. It was a mix of determined and stubborn, the one he always got before doing a dumb bet or a stupid plan.

“Fine,” Kojiro said. He turned to the latest hopeful challenger. “Look, buttercup, I’m the same level as… Cherry. I’ll race for him tonight, he’s sick of all the challenges.”

“What?” Kaoru squawked.

“Fine,” the young man agreed. “Cherry’s better than you anyway, so I’m more likely to win against you! Bring it on!”

“Cherry is not better than me,” Kojiro said with exasperation. “But I accept. And my wager is that you can’t ask Kaoru out again after I beat you.”

“I didn’t agree to this,” Kaoru said loudly, to be heard over the excited chattering of the kids.

“Didn’t Joe just say not to bet on people’s relationships?” Langa muttered; meanwhile, Reki and Miya were debating whether Kaoru would allow it or not.

“Aw, Kaoru, you’re sick of these challenges—let me take this one, I felt like racing anyway. Don’t you trust me?” Kojiro said, sounding unusually sincere. He looked right in Kaoru’s eyes, earnest. It threw Kaoru off.

“I- I- You-“ Kaoru stuttered. He’d like to credit his stutter to rage, and no one was allowed to tell him otherwise. He quickly recovered. “Fine! But only because I’m tired. And don’t lose, doofus.”

“Ha! In your face, Reki,” Miya crowed, while Reki groaned. Langa patted his back consolingly. “Now pay up!”

“God fucking dammit,” Reki swore. Langa’s pats intensified.

“Language,” Kaoru and Kojiro spoke at the same time, before meeting eyes awkwardly. Kaoru made a face.

“Don’t lose!” Kaoru said again, pointing at Kojiro this time, threatening him much as he did the kids earlier.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kojiro agreed, unintimidated.

There wasn’t too much of a wait before it was their turn; in the meantime, Kaoru made sure his hood stayed up. Luckily, between the sweater and the fact that Kaoru’s and Kojiro’s bickering had been quieter than usual—avoiding attention—they hadn’t drawn much notice. The camouflage of the teens helped, too; Kaoru stuck with them to watch the race.

Kaoru watched them line up at the start line, a bit anxious despite himself. Kojiro wouldn’t lose deliberately to prank him, right? He’d take it seriously, right? He crossed his arms, a habitual nervous response, tapping his fingers along his elbows.

“I didn’t think you’d let him race for you,” Reki commented, his arm slung casually around Langa’s shoulders. Langa’s expression was unperturbed, barely seeming to notice, seeming anticipatory and studying Joe and the challenger. Kaoru felt a small pang; Adam had often slung an arm around him and Kojiro, back in the day.

“Don’t remind me,” Kaoru said, shaking away the memory. “I already regret it.”

“Will you really date the guy if he wins?”

“I did agree to the terms,” Kaoru said reluctantly, before reassuring himself. “But as long as Kojiro doesn’t mess around, he’ll beat this guy. He may be a brute, but he’s a powerful skater.”

“You really have a lot of faith in his skating, huh?” Reki asked thoughtfully. “I guess even though you’re rivals, you still respect each other.”

“Rivals,” Miya snorted.

“I’m sure he won’t mess around,” Langa said quietly, watching Joe. “He looks really serious.”

Sure enough, when the buzzer went off, Kojiro took off at his fastest, getting a running start. Kojiro usually didn’t go full speed right off the bat since he skated multiple races a night, making it necessary to conserve energy. But it seemed Langa was right, and Kojiro really was taking this seriously. Kaoru let out a huff of relief.

…It wasn’t much of a race, in the end. Even after taking an insurmountable lead, Kojiro didn’t slow down. Tonight’s challenger was an average skater, and hadn’t even reached the factory when Kojiro crossed the finish line.

“Told you I could handle it,” Kojiro called out as he walked over to where they were standing.

“Took you long enough,” Kaoru retorted.

“That was so cool,” Reki interrupted, hands clasped in front of him. Langa nodded along. “You left that guy in the dust!”

“Obviously,” Miya said condescendingly. “It’s not like they’re even on the same level. It was barely even worth watching.”

“Well, I suppose your race was passable,” Kaoru groused, and Kojiro gave him a sweet smile. It made Kaoru’s stomach feel funny. He told himself that smile made him want to puke. He might be lying to himself, but again, no one was allowed to tell him otherwise.

“It was so cool,” Reki said again reverently. Kaoru scowled, thinking between Kaoru’s praise and the kid’s hero worship, Kojiro’s head was going to get even bigger than it already was. Kaoru decided to course-correct.

“Well, even if it was passable against a nobody like that, your skating is still highly inefficient,” Kaoru started to scold. “You could be better if you just paid more attention to your entry angles. What was that turn coming around the last bend? You were just showing off-“

“You’re just allergic to having fun,” Kojiro said. “Skating isn’t about calculations, you’ve got to skate with some passion! Loosen up a bit-“

“The time to loosen up isn’t when my dignity is on the line,” Kaoru argued, raising his voice. The kids started turning their heads in sync with the argument, like they were following a tennis match.

“Hey, I won!” Kojiro said irritably. “Your dignity is just fine-“

“That doesn’t mean you should play around!”

“I wasn’t playing around!”

“Cherry,” a new voice yelled; the challenger had finally crossed the finish line. More than a few heads turned at the shout. Whispers started up as other skaters heard the name and noticed who he was talking to. “That race doesn’t count! I want to face you, directly! This guy has no right to skate for you.”

“You couldn’t beat Joe, what the hell makes you think you can beat Cherry?” Miya shouted back, incensed, pointing at Kaoru to emphasize his point. “You already lost, loser! Stop wasting our time!”

“Goddammit,” Kaoru muttered, seeing the attention they were garnering. He gave up and lowered his hood, shaking out his hair. No point in the disguise now. He caught Kojiro staring; he raised an eyebrow in question and Kojiro looked away hurriedly.

“Why are Cherry and Miya allowed to swear, when I’m not?” Reki whined, pouting. “Miya’s like, twelve!”

“I just turned thirteen, slime!” Miya said.

Addressing the challenger, Kaoru spoke over the children, cutting off all complaints. “You agreed to the terms. Joe agreed to the terms. I agreed to the terms. Accept your loss gracefully.”

“You accept the beef from everyone else who asks you out, why not mine?” the guy shouted. “No one else had to face Joe to get a date with you!”

“You agreed to the terms,” Kojiro repeated in Kaoru’s defense, resentment coloring his tone. “I beat you, so you have to give up on Kao- Cherry. Your new challenge is invalid because you’re violating the terms of your own beef.”

“Who are you to race for Cherry?” the man demanded, face going red. People in the audience were snickering at his misfortune. “Cherry doesn’t even like you!”

“That’s enough,” Kaoru interrupted, snapping his fan against his hand with a crack. Kojiro looked ready to murder the guy. Kaoru glared at the challenger, and the man wilted. Kaoru put a bit of venom into his voice. “Get. Lost.”

Finally, the man wisely tucked tail and ran.

“Cherry, you’re really scary,” Reki observed, looking slightly traumatized, perhaps having flashbacks to when Kaoru chewed him out for addressing him publicly by the wrong name.

“I wish I could do that,” Miya said admiringly.

“Maybe when you’re older,” Langa told him, smiling angelically. “Right now you’re too small.”

“I am not small!” Miya shouted.

“Shorty, shorty, shorty,” Reki started chanting, the epitome of teenage boy maturity. Langa gently scolded Reki, as though he weren’t the instigator of the whole thing. Kaoru sighed.

“If the kids think you’re so scary, I must be the bravest man alive,” Kojiro mused. “You glare at me all the time.”

“Or you’re the stupidest,” Kaoru smiled sweetly.

“You little-“

“Cherry,” another new voice cut them off, a woman running up to them. Really, he and Kojiro couldn’t even have a proper squabble anymore without someone interrupting. They’d just gotten rid of the last interloper! “I want to race you! Please date me if I win. I’m willing to race Joe, too!”

“No, race me,” another woman ran up, elbow checking the first.

“No, me!” a man this time.

“No, me!”

“I should’ve stayed home,” Kaoru groaned, watching a small crowd gathering, arguing over who’d race Cherry first.

“Why don’t you just race them all at the same time?” Langa asked curiously. Kaoru blinked.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Kojiro asked.

“Probably because you’re a moron,” Kaoru told him reflexively.

“You didn’t think of it either! Who’s the moron now, moron?” Kojiro started, already riled up.

“There’s too many of them, anyway,” Miya cut them off before they could get started, gesturing at the still-growing crowd. “It’d be too dangerous to have that many on the track at once.”

“So make it a tournament!” Reki jumped in excitedly. He smacked Langa’s arm with enthusiasm, exuberant with his own idea. Langa nodded along, humoring him.

“Hm,” Miya said, considering. “That might work. Make them fight each other instead of Cherry.”

“Hey, everyone,” Reki bellowed, before Kaoru could say anything. Reki cupped his hands around his mouth, projecting his voice. “Cherry is no longer going to accept personal challenges asking him for a date! Instead, there’s going to be a tournament!”

“Add that anyone who participates only gets one shot,” Kojiro nudged Reki, rolling with the turn of events easily. “No challenging Kaoru after the tournament.”

“Anyone who participates only gets one shot,” Reki announced obediently. The kid had a set of lungs on him; even those in the back of the crowd were listening attentively. “After you participate in the tournament, you can’t challenge Cherry for a date again!”

“Reki, make sure to say that the winner only gets a chance to race me,” Kaoru said urgently. Although ridiculous, the number of challenges was also getting ridiculous, so maybe they needed a ridiculous solution. So he was not completely opposed to the tournament idea, but they really should have planned this out better before announcing it.

Unfortunately, with Reki pausing to listen to Kaoru, the chatter of the crowd had raised to a loud din. Everyone had stopped listening. Reki shouted as loud as he could.

“The winner gets the chance to race Cherry,” Reki said to the crowd, but his voice was lost to the wave of voices.

“The winner gets to go out with Cherry!” came from the crowd.

“If I win, I can be Cherry’s girlfriend!” another voice.

“It’s not just for girls, right? He’ll go out with a guy too if we win?”

The news had already taken a life of its own. To Reki’s credit, he did try to shout over the crowd a few more times, but to no avail. This, however, wouldn’t save him from Kaoru’s wrath.

“Re-kiii,” Kaoru said slowly, drawing out the vowels with menace.

“Ahhh!” Reki said, taking one glance at Kaoru’s face and making a break for it. He grabbed Langa’s hand, pulling him along; Langa let himself be dragged. “Langa, runnn, he’s going to kill me!”

Kaoru took a deep breath and reminded himself he was an adult, and would not chase after a child. He was cool, collected, dignified…

“The kid was just trying to help,” Kojiro said, nudging his shoulder, watching the kids run off to play. “It’s not a bad idea, he’s just reckless.”

“I know,” Kaoru sighed. “Anyway, thinking about it another way… if the tournament is only for a chance to race me, people might not see the point in participating, and choose to keep challenging me to one vs ones instead. I suppose I should wager at least a date. It’d probably be worth it to get back to normal at S. What’s one date compared to weeks of aggravation?”

Kojiro made a face, his hands clenching into fists. “Is your streak that important to you? You’ll go out with someone you don’t even have feelings for, just for your pride?”

“You go out on meaningless dates all the time,” Kaoru sniped back.

“You’re not like me,” Kojiro said, not rising to the bait. Kaoru peered at him out of the corner of his eye.  Kojiro actually looked… concerned. It unsettled Kaoru, a bit.

“Usually you tell me that’s a bad thing,” Kaoru said testily. “Didn't this whole thing start because you told me I couldn’t land a girl?”

“I-“ Kojiro frowned, eye brows furrowing, as they did on the rare occasions the brute put a genuine effort into thinking something through. Kaoru would never admit it, but it was, just a bit…cute. Probably because it reminded him of when they were children, before Kojiro was so annoying. Kojiro used to furrow his brow just like that whenever he did homework.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Kaoru said dryly.

“It’s not that,” Kojiro said. “Look, I know we argue a lot, but it’s not serious, right? I don’t actually want you to change. And if you never find a girl, that’s fine.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Kaoru said ironically. “Since you know very well I prefer men. You are the one who noticed and brought up… well, you know.”

Kaoru and Kojiro both grimaced at the mention of Kaoru’s dark past. Never had there been a crush he regretted more than his ill-fated early teens. Adam really was a disgusting stain.  

“We never really talked about it, aside from that… one time, when we were in high school,” Kojiro said slowly. The one time being when Kojiro had said he knew about Kaoru’s crush on Adam, and asked if he wanted to talk about it. They’d had a fight about it, because needless to say, Kaoru did not. “I don’t know. You might’ve liked both. You’ve never really shown an interest in anyone since, man or woman.”

Kaoru tensed. No, they’d really never spoken about it, and there was a very good reason for that. It was a reason Kaoru tried very hard not to even think about, and barely acknowledged even in the deep recesses of his own heart. Kojiro liked his women, so there was no reason for Kaoru to waste time moping about stupid impossibilities. Kojiro was there, and that was what mattered. No matter in what capacity, Kojiro has always been there, and Kaoru wasn’t going to do anything to change that.

But for Kojiro to say that Kaoru had never shown interest in anyone…

Every muscle in Kaoru’s body felt high strung. He felt frozen. He thought they’d had an unspoken agreement. How dare Kojiro bring this up, because the thing was…

The thing was…

Kaoru never acknowledged The Problem, and Kojiro never acknowledged The Problem either. But Kaoru knew Kojiro knew, and Kojiro knew Kaoru knew he knew, and they never spoke about it.

In fact, Kaoru was so incensed that Kojiro was bringing this up, it forced him to be blunt with himself.

Kaoru liked Kojiro. Kaoru had liked Kojiro for a very, very long time.

And Kaoru knew that Kojiro was aware of this crush, because Kojiro had noticed Kaoru’s crush on Adam before Kaoru had noticed Kaoru’s crush on Adam. And if he’d noticed about Adam so early, how could it be that Kojiro hadn’t noticed Kaoru’s crush on Kojiro when it had been years upon years?

“Don’t mock me,” Kaoru said venomously, and Kojiro blinked, seeming to realize there was some real rage in Kaoru’s glare.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kojiro said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m not mocking you. Some people are asexual, you know. Maybe you’re somewhere on the spectrum. It’s not a bad thing. I shouldn’t have made fun of you for not being able to get a girl.” He gestured to the crowd, smiling wryly. “It was always just teasing. I think we can both see how popular you are.”

“I’m not upset about that,” Kaoru said waspishly. “Are you seriously playing dumb right now?”

Kaoru was very obviously upset that Kojiro was pretending like he didn’t know about Kaoru’s feelings. But then again, once he thought about it some more, he’d actually be even more upset if Kojiro admitted that he did know about his unrequited feelings, and then they had to talk about it. Ah, he really hadn’t thought this through. Shit.

“Kaoru, if you’re mad, just tell it to me straight,” Kojiro said, exasperated. “You know I don’t want to fight for real.”

“…I’m not mad,” Kaoru said, calming himself. He decided it was still Kojiro’s fault for starting this conversation at all, but he probably just spoke without thinking, and wasn’t being deliberately malicious.

“You’re obviously mad,” Kojiro said, annoyed. “Just tell me!”

“I’m not mad,” Kaoru said again angrily.

“You just said that like you were mad!”

“I did not!”

“Did so!”

“Agh,” Kaoru said, throwing his hands up. He put Carla down, and started skating away. “Forget it! Tonight is a lost cause, I’m out.”

“Kaoru,” Kojiro called. “You’re still coming to the restaurant tomorrow, right?”

“Don’t call me that at S,” Kaoru shrieked back, not bothering to answer the second question.

It was a stupid question, anyway. Kaoru always came to the restaurant on Fridays; why would tomorrow be any different?

Chapter Text

Kaoru did turn up Friday evening at the restaurant. For the sake of both their dignities, Kaoru pretended he didn’t notice the relief that flickered across Kojiro’s face. Really, no need to be dramatic about it. They’d had worse fights and come out the other end; no need to kick up a fuss. No need to have any talks, and certainly no need to bring up any unspoken feelings.

“Did you want Japanese or Italian tonight?” Kojiro asked, a smile on his face. This smile was not making things easier for Kaoru, who was trying hard to return to his usual state of denial.

Kaoru would like to suffer his irrational, awful, unrequited crush in peace. He didn’t need Kojiro’s sympathy, rejection, or guilt. Kojiro pretending he didn’t see Kaoru’s crush was the only way Kaoru maintained this relationship or his sanity.

“Kaoru, are you still mad?” Kojiro asked, words barely registering. Kaoru plugged in Carla and sat at his usual seat at the counter, completely on autopilot. “Kaoru? Earth to Kaoru…”

It might be lonely, but it’d be even more lonely if things became awkward and they stopped spending time together. Besides, sometimes his crush flared up, but it always sunk down to a more manageable level if Kaoru waited it out. It never really went away, but most days he could shove it down so he wasn’t constantly suffering from constant abject misery.

“Kaoru, are you giving me the silent treatment? You haven’t done that since middle school when I broke your Gameboy…”

Kojiro leaned over the counter, trying to meet his eyes, but Kaoru barely noticed, deep in his own sulking. All these challengers asking for dates had really forced romance to the forefront of Kaoru’s mind. He was normally so good at shoving all the emotions deep down, and at reminding himself that Kojiro was an annoying, moronic muscle-head.

“A gorilla,” Kaoru muttered to himself as a reminder. “A muscle head gorilla.”

“Hey,” Kojiro protested, eye twitching in irritation. “Not even a hello?”

“What?” Kaoru blinked, finally noticing Kojiro leaning over the counter. Even annoyed, Kojiro looked-

Kojiro looked-

Kaoru slapped his hand directly over Kojiro’s face before he could finish that thought.

“Hey,” Kojiro said, voice muffled as Kaoru’s palm squashed his mouth and nose. Kojiro reached up and tried to pry Kaoru’s fingers away from his eyes. He looked ridiculous.

“Ha,” Kaoru snorted, but allowed his hand to be peeled away easily enough. Kojiro looked so indignant, Kaoru couldn’t stop from snickering some more.

“What the hell, asshole,” Kojiro asked, exasperated and put upon. Kaoru laughed some more. Kaoru could see Kojiro fighting a smile of his own; he was never good at keeping a straight face when Kaoru laughed, even when it was at his own expense. Kaoru loved that about him, too. “Are you mad or not?”

“Not,” Kaoru told him, finally. “Now bring me food. And some wine.” Maybe with wine, he could forget what he loved about Kojiro, just for a little while.

“That’s what I was asking you,” Kojiro said petulantly. “You ignored me. What do you want to eat?”

“Oh,” Kaoru blinked. “I didn’t hear you. Whatever you have left over is fine.”

Kojiro shrugged, heading to the kitchen. He hesitated in the doorway, looking back. “Are you all right? If you weren’t ignoring me on purpose, you were pretty out of it…”

“I’m fine,” Kaoru said, and it was true. After all this mess with the tournament was done, he’d push all his feelings back down again, and they’d be back to normal. “Just stressed about the tournament. I’ll be glad when it’s all done.”

“Are you worried about the date?” Kojiro asked carefully, twisting his cleaning towel in his hands.

“I’m a grown man, I can handle a date,” Kaoru said defensively, scowling. When Kojiro just raised an eyebrow, he deflated. “Well. I never liked going out with strangers much. But at least the challenges will end.”

“It’s my fault,” Kojiro sighed after a pause. He sounded defeated. “I shouldn’t have intervened with that girl. I just said the first thing that came to mind.”

“Why was that the first thing that came to mind?” Kaoru asked uncomfortably. He felt like he should reassure Kojiro, but after saying it was his fault so many times, a prideful part of him didn’t want to admit he was wrong. But he had wondered why Kojiro had said that, that Kaoru wouldn’t date anyone who couldn’t keep up with his skating.

“I guess, I was thinking,” Kojiro started, before stopping and looking at Kaoru warily.

“What?”

“You’ll be mad.”

“I’ll be mad if you don’t tell me, now.”

“Ugh,” Kojiro groaned, running a hand through his hair. “There’s no winning with you, you know that, right? I was thinking of how you used to look at Adam when he skated.”

Kaoru let out a long breath, and covered his face with his hands. He’d walked right into that one. And now that he thought about it, “someone who could match his skating,” didn’t that description fit Kojiro, too? At least Kojiro had the common sense to not bring up the latter.

“Kaoru?” Kojiro asked, panicked. In a flash, he was back at the counter, tugging at Kaoru’s wrists. “Kaoru, are you crying? Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up, please don’t cry—“

“What? Why would I be crying?” Kaoru said in surprise, easily letting Kojiro pull away his hands and showing his tear-free, clear eyes. Kojiro was very close, and looked so earnest. Kaoru’s heart stuttered, but he carefully kept his face impassive even while internally he gave himself a slap.

“Ah- I mean- Adam,” Kojiro stammered, looking incredibly embarrassed, realizing immediately he’d overreacted. “Ah, shit, kill me. This never happened!”

“We’re not in grade school anymore,” Kaoru objected, feeling weirdly defensive. “I’m not a crybaby anymore!” And oh, maybe someone should kill him too, that sounded so juvenile.

“You used to cover your face like that when you cried,” Kojiro protested, releasing Kaoru’s wrists like they’d burned him. “You didn’t like anyone seeing your red nose!”

“I was just embarrassed about Adam,” Kaoru said, voice rising to almost a shout. “Wouldn’t you be embarrassed if you used to like him? He turned into such a creep! And that’s the second time you’ve brought that up in two days! And now you’re bringing up my red nose, too!”

“I know,” Kojiro shouted back. “I didn’t think it through! I’m embarrassed I did that, so now we’re both embarrassed! Stop reminding me!”

“Then you stop reminding me!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

They both stared at each other a long moment, before looking at each other became so painfully awkward Kaoru genuinely wanted an asteroid to crash into the earth and put them all out of their misery.

“I’ll go get your food,” Kojiro mumbled, looking away and retreating to the kitchen as quickly as he could without outright running.

Kaoru let his head fall to the counter with a thunk. Ugh. How embarrassing. He forcefully pushed old memories away, but they came faster than he could suppress.

ooo

Some memories were harder to quash than others.

Kaoru cried often in elementary school, and was teased by the other kids for how red his nose would get. They’d call him Rudolph, and would sing Akahana no Tonakai any time Kaoru so much as sniffled. Kaoru was so embarrassed that he’d developed a habit of covering his face any time he felt even the slightest upset.

Any time the kids sang, Kojiro would drag Kaoru away. He’d tell Kaoru that Rudolph’s red nose was what made him special and let him save the day. He told him Kaoru shouldn’t be embarrassed to cry, because Kaoru was special too. This usually made Kaoru cry harder, so then Kojiro would give him a hug and let Kaoru hide his face in his shirt.

“Please don’t cry, Kaoru,” Kojiro used to say. “If you hate that song so much, I’ll sing you another.”

And he would. Kojiro actually sang very nicely, and would sing whatever Kaoru asked. Kaoru liked asking him to sing lullabies the best, and Kojiro always sang them very earnestly. Sometimes Kaoru would fall asleep on him, and Kojiro would hold very still so as not to wake him up.

Kaoru had eventually outgrown the habit of covering his face, or rather, he’d outgrown the habit of crying so much. Kaoru couldn’t believe Kojiro still remembered those moments. It made Kaoru’s heart hurt to remember how sweet Kojiro was as a child, but it hurt him even more to remember how sweet he could still be, all these years later. No one knew him like Kojiro, and no one else ever would.

ooo

Kaoru’s day of pining was over. Crush? What crush? Bah, as if he’d be in love with a stupid gorilla. Love, who said love? There was no love here!

His feelings felt manageable again, and everything was back to normal. Well, almost.

“I still blame you,” Kaoru said sourly to Kojiro, watching the chaos of the huge turnout that night at S. The tournament was here, and Reki had set up some online registration system which only half of the hopefuls seemed to have actually used. Harried, Reki was running around, helping Cherry fans pull up the link on their phones. Langa was pulled along, shyly answering questions when Reki was busy. Shadow had come tonight, and Miya didn’t bother to help the two teens, choosing to pester Shadow instead.

“You’re the one who’s too proud to turn down a beef,” Kojiro said, equally sour. “This wouldn’t have gotten so out of hand if you’d just told a few people no.”

…To be honest, Kojiro wasn’t wrong. Even before the tournament had been announced, Kaoru had finally decided to bring an end to it all and start rejecting challengers. After Kojiro had told the kids how he’d turned down Adam’s bet when they were seventeen, Kaoru had felt incredibly immature in comparison. His streak wasn’t worth it. Kojiro had made a more mature decision at age seventeen than Kaoru was now, some ten years later. And if he felt immature compared to Kojiro, that’s when he knew he had to rethink his life choices.

But right after he’d made that decision, Reki had recklessly announced the tournament, and it had all spiraled from there. Well, it was too late now.

“Kaoru? Kaoru…” Kojiro was saying, drawing out his name. Kaoru snapped out of his thoughts, realizing Kojiro had been calling his name while he was lost in thought.

“What?” Kaoru asked, having lost track of the conversation.

“Are you all right?” Kojiro asked cautiously.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kaoru sniffed, glaring out at the crowd. Various shouts of “Cherry, over here~” and “I want you to pop my cherry~” could be heard.

“You’re not telling me to shut up,” Kojiro said wryly. “And you’re not scolding me for calling you Kaoru. I’d say something is wrong.”

“Shut up, and don’t use that name,” Kaoru said half-heartedly. He wondered which random face in the crowd he’d be stuck going on a date with. He’d probably have to tell them his real name if they went somewhere outside of S. A part of him still wanted to call it all off, but so many people were involved now. It’d damage his reputation if he backed out after all this.

“Hmm,” Kojiro said, before a look of determination came over him. He put a comforting hand on Kaoru’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Kaoru. I’ll make sure you don’t have to go out with a stranger.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Kaoru said, an edge in his voice. “And don’t use that name!”

“Even if it was an accident, I did give that girl the idea,” Kojiro admitted. “And I know you’re proud of the fact that you’ve never turned down a beef. So, I’ll fix it. Didn’t you tell me to fix it?”

“How in the world could you possible fix this?” Kaoru asked doubtfully. “And since when did you do what I told you to do, anyway?”

“I did your math homework for you in the seventh grade,” Kojiro pointed out.

“Only because you needed me to do your English homework!” Kaoru said.

“My English was fine! Your math was what was really hopeless,” Kojiro protested.

“Your face is what’s really hopeless,” Kaoru retorted.

“Your mom is what’s really hopeless,” Kojiro responded with equal maturity.

“I’ll tell Okaa-san you said that next time I see her,” Kaoru sniffed, both of them knowing he wouldn’t.

“What? No, Kaa-san loves me, Kaoru, don’t,” Kojiro whined, turning to look at Kaoru with betrayal. It was true; Kaoru’s mother always asked him to bring Kojiro home for dinner when he visited. Well, in many ways, she’d helped raise both of them.

“See if she lets you call her Kaa-san anymore!”

“Kaoru!” Kojiro complained, shoving him.

“Don’t use that name here!” Kaoru shoved him back, and it just devolved from there. Neither of them noticed Langa approaching; who knew how long he was standing there before he finally found a place to politely cut in.

“Um,” Langa said, interrupting their roughhousing. They both paused, and Langa fidgeted when they both turned to stare at him. Kojiro gave Kaoru one last light shove, so Kaoru kicked Kojiro in the shin. Kojiro yelped. “They’re going to start the races. Joe, you’re in the first heat.”

“Right, I’m coming,” Kojiro told Langa, rubbing his shin. To Kaoru, he said, “Way to sabotage your champion, sweetheart.”

“Wait, what?” Kaoru demanded, looking between Langa and Kojiro. “You’re competing in this farce?”

“I told you I’d fix it,” Kojiro said grouchily. “If I win, you don’t have to go on a date with anyone, right?”

“Oh,” Kaoru said, at a loss of what to say. Before he could think of anything, Langa jumped in.

“I think it’s very romantic,” Langa said sincerely, eyes wide and honest. Wait, there was some sort of miscommunication here.

“Romantic?” Kaoru squawked, appalled. How had this kid gotten the wrong idea? Was Kaoru’s pining so obvious that children were starting to pick up on it? “What romantic? There’s no romance! Don’t go around spreading nonsense!”

“Eh?” Langa asked guilelessly, looking between them confused. Kojiro avoided eye contact, but didn’t say anything. “Ah, sorry, maybe I misunderstood something? My Japanese is a bit…”

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Kojiro said, placing a hand on Langa’s shoulder and steering him away. “Let’s not keep everyone waiting, right?”

“There’s no romance,” Kaoru called after them, half desperate, not understanding why Kojiro didn’t refute anything. Probably to annoy him…

“What romance?” Reki asked, popping up to say hello like a shark smelling blood in the water. As always, where Langa was, Reki wasn’t far behind. “Is there someone in the tournament you’re rooting for? Maybe you should tell Joe so he doesn’t beat them. Why is Joe competing, anyway?”

“…Why do you think Joe is competing?” Kaoru asked cautiously, suddenly paranoid that everyone knew about his inconvenient crush on Kojiro.

“I don’t know,” Reki shrugged, as Miya approached. “I thought you asked him to ‘cause you were tired of the challengers, like last time.”

“What’s going on?” Miya asked.

“Cherry asked if I knew why Joe was competing,” Reki informed him, shrugging again. “I have no idea. Do you know?”

Miya looked at Reki like he’d said something particularly stupid. “Are you serious?”

“Wait, he told you?” Reki asked, surprised. “What’d he say?”

“He didn’t tell me, slime, it’s just obvious.”

“It’s not obvious to me,” Reki complained.

“He feels guilty,” Kaoru cut off the bickering. “And I told him I didn’t want to go on a date with a stranger, so he’s just helping out of obligation.”

Now Miya looked at Kaoru like he was particularly stupid, which was completely unjustified, and Kaoru glared at him. Miya glared back.

“Oh, that’s why?” Reki asked. “That’s nice of him. You guys fight so much, a lot of people think you don’t get along, but you’re actually good pals, huh?”

Miya face palmed, letting out a groan. Kaoru felt a bit embarrassed, even though Reki hadn’t said anything wrong. But even if it was true, one should have more class than to bring it up! ‘Pals’ with Kojiro, pah.

“Wait,” Reki continued, chattering on as always. “If you already knew why he entered, why were you asking me?”

Miya let out another groan, sounding genuinely pained.

“What’s wrong with you?” Reki asked Miya, bewildered.

“That’s enough of that,” Kaoru said loudly, deciding he’d had enough of whatever this was. “Now hush. The race is starting.”

Reki and Miya promptly stopped arguing, turning to look at the track. Kojiro looked as if he’d just finished a conversation with Langa, giving him a nod as he stepped up to the start line. As the countdown began, he looked uncharacteristically serious, eyes focused and muscles tensed as he waited for the buzzer. Kaoru figured that even if it was a ridiculous tournament, it was still a competition, and Kojiro had a reputation to maintain. Seeing Kojiro’s seriousness, Kaoru started to feel the nerves as well. He recognized a few of the skaters in this qualifier, and they weren’t bad. If Kojiro fell or made a mistake, the race could be close.

The buzzer went off, and the skaters took off. Kaoru found himself gnawing on his lip under his mask, eyes unable to leave the screen.

“How many entrants are there?” Langa asked, jogging back over to join them.

“Twenty-something,” Reki answered. “Who knew Cherry was so popular? And a bunch of people said they were ineligible for the tournament ‘cause he already beat them. And some said they’d wanted to join, but decided not to bother when they found out Joe was racing too.”

“Cherry is a talented skater,” Langa mused. “I guess it makes sense. He’s good-looking and rich, too.”

“…You think Cherry is good-looking?” Reki asked, sounding a bit downtrodden. Kaoru rolled his eyes at trepidation in Reki’s voice.

“There’s literally a whole tournament because everyone thinks Cherry is hot,” Miya snorted, also rolling his eyes. Sometimes Kaoru wondered if Miya copied him, and if he should tell the child to find a better role model. But then again, better him than Kojiro, the brute. “Is that even a question?”

“But Langa, do you think Cherry is good-looking? Like, is he your type? What’s your type?” Reki persisted. Langa went red and looked a bit like a deer in headlights; Kaoru wrinkled his nose and decided to cut this off for both their sakes.

“Some of us are trying to watch the race,” Kaoru said loudly, sending them a glare. The kid’s mouths thankfully snapped shut. A few compliments were fine, but he didn’t want to hear a bunch of kids debating if he was their type or not. And he definitely didn’t want to get involved with Reki and Langa pining after each other.

“It’s not much of a race,” Miya said, turning his attention back to the screen. “Joe’s really not holding back tonight.”

Well, it was just the qualifier. Of course Joe would win. Nevertheless, Kaoru let out a sigh of relief as Kojiro officially crossed the finish line.

The kids chattered some more, and Shadow came over to say hello as they waited for Kojiro to make his way back up to the top of the track. When Kojiro arrived, he hopped out of the back seat of a car; it looked like he’d caught a ride up with a few of his defeated opponents who’d decided to stick around to watch the rest of the tournament. As he got out of the car, it seemed like the two girls in front were arguing; the girl who got out of the passenger seat slammed the door as she exited. Another girl, looking put upon, stepped reluctantly out of the driver’s side. Kojiro was making a face. Many of the bystanders loitering around watching the second heat turned their attention to the drama unfolding instead.

“It’s not fair,” the first girl protested, talking to her friend, a petit girl who’d been driving. “Joe shouldn’t be allowed to compete for this!”

“Just let it go,” her friend argued with her. “If you lost to Joe, you wouldn’t have won against Cherry either! If Cherry had raced you last week like you’d wanted, you’d have lost anyway!”

“Joe doesn’t even want a date with Cherry! This tournament was in bad faith!” the first girl wailed.

“Who said I don’t want a date with Cherry?” Kojiro demanded, cutting into the argument. Everyone went quiet, and even the girls stopped to stare at him wide-eyed.

Kaoru felt his face turn red. After thinking about it, he knew Kojiro was just keeping up a pretense so he wouldn’t be disqualified, but his heart stammered traitorously.

“Eh,” the first girl stuttered. “But… You guys are always arguing, don’t you guys not get along?”

“If we didn’t get along, why would I enter in the first place?” Kojiro asked, sounding incredibly irritated.

Kaoru suddenly wondered if it bothered Kojiro that most people assumed they disliked each other. Kaoru always assumed it wouldn’t bother Kojiro since it never bothered Kaoru himself much. In the end, what other people thought wouldn’t affect the reality—and it allowed him to keep his dignity, since people were less likely to suspect he was pining away pathetically—but Kojiro seemed genuinely offended.

“We thought it was a joke,” the first girl said weakly.

Kojiro’s expression darkened, and he looked over at Kaoru. With determination, he walked over to where Kaoru stood with the kids. Kaoru didn’t like the look in Kojiro’s eyes. He didn’t know what was about to happen, but he dreaded it all the same. He felt frozen, heart going wild, but he had gotten his blush under control and managed to keep his gaze dispassionate.

“What?” he asked, toneless, only for his eyes to widen when Kojiro stopped directly in front of him and put his face close, their noses just a few inches away from each other.

“Please don’t get mad,” Kojiro said, and then reached up, pulled down Kaoru’s mask, and kissed him.

“Mmph,” Kaoru made an embarrassing sound of surprise, feeling his blush return with a vengeance. His eyes were wide, but Kojiro’s face was too close, and he squeezed his eyes shut on reflex.

It wasn’t a long kiss—just a few seconds, before Kaoru could make up his mind whether to push him away or not. He thought he should, but then he thought it’d destroy the pretense and the fangirls would kick Kojiro out of the tournament. Then Kaoru really would be stuck on a date with a stranger. But, no, the pretense was only that Kojiro had to want a date. But, no! Even Kaoru wasn’t so much of an ass to embarrass Kojiro when Kojiro was the one doing him a favor—and he’d seemed upset those girls thought they didn’t get along—but really, there was no need to go this far, Kojiro deserved to be pushed off— this was all this fault anyway—

And did any of that matter, Kojiro was stroking his cheek with his thumb, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—

And his five seconds of panic ran out, Kojiro let him go, and Kaoru’s eyes fluttered open. What the fuck, Kojiro, what the fuck—

Kojiro paused briefly before pulling away entirely, staring right into Kaoru’s eyes, their noses still close together. His eyes were dark in the dim light, and Kaoru felt completely wired, staring back at him frazzled. He didn’t move when Kojiro reached for him and tugged Kaoru’s mask back up over his nose.

Kojiro turned away and addressed their audience. “I’m going to win that date,” he announced. Their audience broke out into wild chatter.

KOJIRO, WHAT THE FUCK—

“Gross,” Miya said. “There are children present, you know.”

“Don’t be a bigot, Miya,” Reki hissed, sounding appalled.

“What?” Miya said in surprise. “No, slime, not ‘cause they’re men! Two people kissing is gross no matter what!”

“Oh,” Reki said, sounding relieved.

“Cherry, are you okay?” Langa asked quietly, but none of the kid’s voices were registering over the litany of what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, running through Kaoru’s mind.

“Kaoru?” Kojiro asked worriedly, eying him with trepidation. “Shit, you’re mad. I’m sorry, okay? People kept giving me a hard time, and then I saw you, and I thought there was one way to make them shut up—but I knew you’d probably be mad, I shouldn’t have done it, please don’t be mad, I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea—”

“Forget it,” Kaoru said as finally, Kojiro’s words broke through the haze of panic. He was surprised at how level his voice came out. ‘I shouldn’t have done it.’ No, Kojiro shouldn’t have. He should know better than to toy with Kaoru’s feelings like that. Well, Kaoru wasn’t going to be the one who overreacted. If he got mad, they’d have to talk about why he was mad, and they were never having that conversation if he could help it. It was fine, Kaoru was fine; Kaoru knew Kojiro hadn’t meant anything with the kiss. It stung, and therefore he wanted to pretend it all never happened, so that it wouldn’t sting anymore.

“Kaoru—” Kojiro started, strained.

“I said forget it,” Kaoru said flatly, cutting him off. He was careful to keep his expression impassive. “It’s just a kiss, it doesn’t mean anything. Let’s just agree to never bring this up again.”

Everyone fell silent, Kojiro and the kids both. An uncertain expression crossed Kojiro’s face, his eyebrows furrowing, mouth opening like he wanted to say something, but then closing again. Miya winced, and Langa looked upset. Reki looked like he’d just realized something and it worried him.

“What?” Kaoru demanded. Why was everyone surprised that he would be mature about this? Why did everyone look at him like he’d said something particularly harsh? He’d been doing Kojiro a favor, letting him off the hook so easily! There was no need to look at him like he was some cruel bastard!

“…Nothing, Kaoru,” Kojiro finally said quietly. “You’re right. Let’s just forget it.”

“Right,” Kaoru said with a pang in his heart, a bit at a loss. Suddenly he felt suffocated, like he wanted to be anywhere but here. He set down Carla and stepped on. “I’m going to go for a few runs on the half pipe. If I’m not back on time, good luck in your next race.”

“You’re not going to watch?” Kojiro blurted.

“I’ll be back for the finals,” Kaoru said. “There’s no one in the next round who’s on your level anyway.”

“But—” Kojiro started, but whatever he was going to say, Kaoru didn’t stick around to hear the rest of it.

Feeling the wind whipping through his hair, Kaoru ran away from Kojiro, away from the whole stupid tournament—Kaoru just needed a moment to breathe.

Chapter Text

In an unexpected silver lining, Kaoru had the half pipe all to himself. Everyone was preoccupied with the excitement of the tournament.

Away from it all, he felt calmer, more himself. He could push all the bad emotions down where he didn’t feel them so strongly.

“Carla, calculate my entry angle for the next jump,” Kaoru said, racing down the crescent of the halfpipe and preparing to jump off the other side. He wished he could go so fast that he left all of his mixed feelings behind him. “Lien air revert.”

“Adjust course by three degrees,” Carla said, her soothing voice washing over him. He made the adjustment and completed the rotation flawlessly.

“Thank you, Carla,” Kaoru said, skidding to a stop as he stopped to breathe. Since no one was around, he tugged down his mask, enjoying the cool breeze that washed over his nose and lips.

“Cherry,” a voice called out, and Kaoru nearly tugged up his mask again, until he saw that it was Shadow.

“Oh, it’s you,” Kaoru said, nodding in greeting. “You’re not going to watch the matches?”

“I’ll go back for the final,” Shadow said. “I told Joe and the kids I’d check on you.”

“No need,” Kaoru told him. “I’m fine.”

“The kids told me what happened,” Shadow said, looking doubtful at Kaoru’s response. “And, well, I saw you and Joe…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kaoru said, keeping his voice level even though internally he felt his earlier emotions surge back to the surface.

“Joe seemed pretty upset,” Shadow continued, and Kaoru just wanted him to stop. Couldn’t he just have a moment of peace? “I think you might’ve hurt his feelings.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Kaoru said, some of his frustration leaking into his voice. His earlier sense of calm vanished so rapidly it might as well have never happened. “If anyone should be upset, it should be me!”

“That’s why I came to check on you,” Shadow said dryly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Kaoru said stubbornly. “Anyway, I’m not upset. I just said that if anyone should be upset, it should be me.”

Not that he was upset. He was fine. There was no kiss, no devastating conversation, no forceful suppression of everything he was feeling right now. Everything was fine.

“You can both be upset,” Shadow pointed out. “It’s not one or the other. Do you not like Joe that way?”

“I’m not having this conversation,” Kaoru told him. “I am never having this conversation.”

“I know it’s not my business,” Shadow said. “But if you did want to talk about it, afterwards we can pretend it never happened.”

“That’s what I want to do,” Kaoru muttered. “Pretend it never happened.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy.”

“It’s worked so far.”

They both stared at each other. Shadow looked uncomfortable, out of his element. Well, too bad. So was Kaoru.

Kaoru scowled. Shadow’s intentions weren’t bad, but honestly, Kaoru had no idea how to have this conversation even if he wanted to. He’d never spoken of it before, and he’d never intended to.

“Look,” Kaoru said, voice strained but not impolite. “I appreciate your concern, but some things are better left unspoken. It’s kinder that way.”

“Kinder?” Shadow asked, confused, before something seemed to click. “Wait, when you say ‘unspoken’ – you mean you know Joe has feelings for you? You think it’s kinder to pretend not to see them?” he said incredulously.

“ Joe ’s feelings for me?” Kaoru said in disbelief. “What are you on? I was talking about my feelings for him- “

They both stared at each other for a moment in blank shock. Kaoru felt the blood drain from his face.

“I never said that,” Kaoru quickly said, anxiety ramping up to max. He’d never said it out loud before. It always felt like if he never said anything aloud, it wasn’t real. It felt like something was broken, like his world was going to shatter. “You tricked me! I never meant to- I never meant to-“

Suddenly it seemed hard to fill his lungs; he felt like he couldn’t breathe in any new air.  He heard his breathing get louder, but it didn’t feel like he was breathing. His vision started to blur around the edges, taking on a dreamy feel.

“Oh no,” Shadow said, looking at him with concern.

Kaoru squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t help. His breath continued to quicken, turning into gasps.

“Car-la,” he choked out, the vocalization barely audible over his wheezing. “Play- hah- play Take- Takeda- hah- no- Ko- Ko- Ko—”

“Carla, play ‘Takeda no Komoriuta,’” Shadow quickly said, realizing what Kaoru was trying to say. “It’s okay, Cherry. Here, sit down. Can I grab your arm?”

Kaoru nodded his head, still breathing too loud, gasping.

“Okay,” Shadow said, taking Kaoru’s arm and leading him gently to sit on the curb. “It’s okay. My sister gets these too, sometimes. Put your head between your knees. There you go. My sister says counting helps. Okay? I’m going to start counting, try and focus on that. Ichi, ni, san…”

Ichi, ni, san… Kaoru obediently repeated in his head. Shit, this hadn’t happened in years. How embarrassing. Shadow didn’t even know him very well. Kaoru wasn’t even sure of Shadow’s real name! He thought Shadow might’ve told him at the hospital, but Kaoru hadn’t bothered to remember. At least Kojiro already knew about his little panics; Kaoru hated it when someone new had to see him like this. Someone new would change their perception of him, see him as vulnerable— Kaoru wished he was alone.

Carla’s soft voice sang the lullaby sweetly. Maybe he’d been wrong to ask for this song. Kojiro always used to sing this song too. To calm down, he needed to not think about Kojiro—

Ichi, ni, san…

He needed to stop thinking about Kojiro, but he couldn’t help it.

ooo

Back when they were in high school, Kaoru had learned to control his tears for the most part. He hadn’t cried much anymore, but unfortunately, after pushing down all his negative emotions, they’d bubble up at the worst possible times.

The first time Kojiro saw him have an anxiety attack, they’d been fourteen. Kaoru couldn’t even remember if something had set off the attack, but he did remember that Kojiro completely panicked.

“Kaoru? Kaoru,” Kojiro said desperately, voice cracking with concern. “Kaoru, what’s wrong?”

“I- I-“ Kaoru had tried. Kaoru had run away from the skate park when he’d felt his breaths start to come short, but he didn’t get far since he wasn’t very fast when he couldn’t breathe properly. Kojiro had caught up easily.

His breaths came in gasps and his chest felt tight, and he clutched at his heart. He braced himself against the wall of the ally he’d darted into. Kojiro was flailing, hands fluttering over Kaoru, wanting to touch but unsure if he should.

“Oh, god, is it a heart attack?” Kojiro said in alarm; it was getting to the point where it was unclear who was more panicked, Kojiro or Kaoru. “Aren’t we too young for heart attacks?” he asked hysterically. “Oh, no, what do I do? 1-1-9, I’m calling 1-1-9…”

Kaoru had lunged at Kojiro, still gasping, but he managed to knock the phone out of Kojiro’s hands.

“D- Don’t,” he managed.

“Kaoru, what’s going on?” Kojiro said, voice going shrill. It was probably the highest pitch Kaoru had ever heard out of him. “You need an ambulance!”

Kaoru just shook his head, trying to focus on calming his breathing. It wasn’t working; Kojiro wasn’t helping, feeding into his anxiety with his own.

Kaoru clutched at Kojiro’s arm so he couldn’t dive for the phone. “Don’t,” he gasped.

“Kaoru,” Kojiro wailed, and he had actual tears in his eyes. For a moment, Kaoru was stunned; he’d only seen Kojiro cry a handful of times in their lives.

Kaoru reached out a trembling hand, placing it over Kojiro’s mouth to silence him.

“Stop,” he wheezed. “Just… wait.”   

And after a long minute, his breathing did calm down. Kaoru’s breaths settled down, and he sighed in relief that this attack was a short one. Kojiro kept making aborted movements towards his dropped phone; Kaoru didn’t think he could hold him back much longer.

“Not a heart attack,” Kaoru mumbled, wiping at the tears condensed at the corner of his eyes. Now that air could settle back into his lungs, shame started to settle in with it.

“Kaoru, you need a doctor,” Kojiro said, clutching at Kaoru’s hands. As they’d gotten older, they’d stopped hugging and touching so much. Kaoru was struck for a moment how much longer Kojiro’s fingers had gotten.

“I’m fine,” Kaoru said defensively. “It was just… stress.”

“How is that stress? You were clutching your chest and you couldn’t breathe!” Kojiro cried, overwrought.

“It’s… It’s just a panic attack,” Kaoru said reluctantly, not wanting to explain. It sounded so pathetic when he said it out loud. Still, he didn’t want to go to the doctor and he didn’t want his mother finding out he’d had another one. “I don’t need medical attention unless it’s a particularly prolonged one.”

“Panic attack?” Kojiro said faintly. “Wait, this happened before?”

“Just…” Kaoru avoided meeting his eyes. “Just google it, dumbass.”

Kojiro finally picked up his dropped phone, watching Kaoru warily the whole time, as if worried Kaoru would suddenly collapse. Kaoru felt his face steadily turn redder in humiliation.

Finally, Kojiro tore his eyes away from Kaoru and looked at his phone. They both ended up sitting shoulder-to-shoulder against the wall, legs stretched out on the pavement in front of them. The cement was dirty and had trash scattered about, but Kaoru couldn’t bring himself to care. They sat in strained silence as Kojiro tapped and scrolled on his phone. Kaoru stared blankly ahead of him. He wondered if this would be the moment Kojiro finally left him.

After a few minutes, Kojiro swiped the apps closed, and pocketed his phone. He tentatively reached out to touch Kaoru’s shoulder. Kaoru flinched, and Kojiro flinched back in response.

“Sorry,” Kojiro said glumly. “I’ll read more later, but I wanted to talk to you. I reacted all wrong, didn’t I? The internet says I was supposed to stay calm.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kaoru muttered, bringing his knees up to his chest and hugging them. “Can we just pretend this never happened?”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Kojiro said, before hurriedly adding, “Or we can if you do. But you said it happened before, right? If it happens again, I just want to make sure I don’t mess up again.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kaoru mumbled, hiding his face behind his elbows and knees.

“It does matter! Can I hold your hand or something, if it happens?” Kojiro asked anxiously. “The internet says I’m supposed to ask before I touch you.”

“Whatever,” Kaoru said. “You don’t need to do anything if it happens again. I’ll deal with it.”

“I just want to help-“

“You don’t have to,” Kaoru burst out, hands clenching into fists. “Stop being so nice! I know I’m pathetic, but I don’t need you to treat me like- like- like you pity me! I can handle it!”

“It’s not pity!”

“It is so! It’s just like when you used to take care of me when I cried, but we’re not little kids anymore! I should be able to handle this on my own,” Kaoru said angrily, and to his horror, tears started to pool at the corner of his eyes. He was still emotionally worn thin.

“I took care of you because we’re friends,” Kojiro said, frustrated. “Just like you used to chase the bullies away when they made fun of me for being scrawny. I know we’re not little kids anymore, and I know we argue a lot, but aren’t we still friends?”

Kaoru felt the water start to leak out of his eyes, and he buried his head back in his knees.

“Kaoru?” Kojiro asked anxiously.

“You’d be better off without me,” Kaoru said, voice cracking. “You’d be better off with someone who wasn’t pathetic like me. You don’t need me to chase the bullies off anymore.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Kojiro said indignantly. “I know we argue and tease a lot, but have I ever teased you about crying? I won’t tease you about this, either. I know what’s off limits with you, just like you know what’s off limits with me. And we can still skate and fight like always. But if this happens again, it just means we have a truce, right?”

Kaoru sniffled. “A truce?”

“Yeah, a truce. Remember when you got mad at me for breaking your Gameboy, like, two years ago?” Kojiro asked, and Kaoru nodded. “We were in the middle of a fight and you wouldn’t talk to me for days. But then my grandma died, and you came over to my house. You said you were still mad, but we were going to have a truce, because my grandma was more important than your Gameboy. And when I cried, you didn’t tease me either. When I didn’t want to get out of bed, you tried to make me dinner, and it was so awful, you spat out your own cooking. I laughed, and it was the first time after she died that I felt like I’d be okay.”

“My grandma didn’t die, though,” Kaoru mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed at the memory. “I don’t have a good reason to… to be like this.”

“It was just an example,” Kojiro said earnestly. “You don’t need a reason. You just need to trust me.”

And Kaoru looked at him. They must have made a sight, sitting in disarray in an old ally, skateboards lying forgotten several feet away. Both their eyes were red around the edges, and Kaoru’s hair must have looked a horror.  

Kaoru might have later gotten a crush on Adam, but if he was honest with himself—and truthfully, he’d prefer never to be—this was the moment he fell in love with Kojiro. He just hadn’t realized it at the time.

Kaoru looked at him then, stupid and grateful, and said, “…Okay.”

ooo

Ichi, ni san. Ichi, ni, san.

Shadow counted, and patted Kaoru’s back while Kaoru’s breathing steadied out. Kaoru would never have imagined himself in this situation in a million years. Even now, he still had trouble believing it. Shadow had always come across as crass and rude, and they’d never spent any time together at all until the hospital. Yet here Kaoru was, completely at his mercy. And Shadow had known exactly what to do.

This didn’t stop Kaoru from feeling embarrassed. 

“Sorry,” Kaoru muttered, lifting his head from between his knees. He felt drained, as he always had after a fit. He’d forgotten how weary they made him; it’d been at least two years since he’d last experienced one. Shadow gave him two last firm pats on the back, and then withdrew his hand.

“It’s not a big deal,” Shadow said. “My sister gets ‘em too. Yours was pretty quick, honestly. Has it happened to you before?”

“Yeah,” Kaoru answered with a sigh. Anxiously, he started to fix his ponytail, feeling frazzled. He wished he had a mirror to make sure he looked put together before he returned. His hair was always a mess after an attack; he always mussed his hair without realizing it.

“...Did the, uh, Joe stuff set it off?” Shadow asked tentatively. “I won’t tell him if you don’t want me to, but I think you should tell him… I won’t tell anyone about your panic attack, either. Except maybe my sister, if it’s okay with you.”

Kaoru felt a mixture of embarrassed and grateful. If only he’d managed to hold it in a few more hours, he wouldn’t have been in this situation. He could have had a panic at his apartment with no one the wiser. Shadow had his reputation in his hands, but… he seemed reliable. Kaoru supposed despite the rude S personality, Shadow had always taken good care of the kids.

At least he hadn’t had the fit back in the audience. He’d made the right call, coming to the half pipe.

Well, it wasn’t like he could lose any more dignity with Shadow than he already had. And Shadow was officially the only one to know the truth, intentional or not. Kaoru felt like he owed him some sort of explanation.

“That thing I said earlier… I’d never said it out loud before,” Kaoru muttered, hugging his knees to his chest. “Kojiro knows how I feel, but we never talk about it. I never wanted to talk about it. But then he did… that , and entered this ridiculous tournament, and everything just got so out of hand…”

“Joe knows you love him?” Shadow exclaimed, shocked. 

“Shhh!” Kaoru burst out, glancing around wildly to make sure they were still alone. “Don’t be so loud! And don’t say it!”

“Joe knows ?” Shadow obediently lowered his voice to an incredulous whisper, but wouldn’t let it go.

“Obviously!” Kaoru hissed back. “He always knew any time I had a crush on someone, and I’ve liked him for years. He just pretends not to know because it’d be awkward, because he likes women!”

“Um,” Shadow said slowly, as if measuring his words. “Have you ever spoken about it? I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Kaoru scoffed. “I think I would know better than you. And I’m never having that conversation with him. I’d like to maintain what little dignity I have left.”

“I don’t think I’m the absurd one here,” Shadow said in an undertone.

“Ugh,” Kaoru said. He fished around for a distraction. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “Just forget it. You said you had a sister? How old is she?”

Shadow gave him a look, like he knew what he was doing, but went along with it. “She’s thirteen… around Miya’s age, actually. Sometimes I wonder if I should introduce them… Miya, that kid, he could use some friends his own age.”

Kaoru snorted. “Do you think they’d get along? Miya can be prickly.”

“My sister’s tough,” Shadow said proudly. “She could handle him. They could talk about that new anime that all the kids like, Demon Slayer. Miya kept talking about it so I told her to watch it, and now she keeps stealing Mom’s credit card to buy figurines.”

“Hmm,” Kaoru said, feeling his mood soften a bit. “Maybe you can bring her along to Kojiro’s restaurant next time so they can meet.”

“She likes pastas,” Shadow hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I should.”

“She should try carbonara,” Kaoru suggested. “It’s my favorite.”

“Cherry! Shadow!” a loud voice called from afar, and Kaoru and Shadow both looked up to see Reki sprinting towards them. When he reached them, he bent over, clutching his knees as he caught his breath. 

“Yes?” Kaoru prompted. 

“Hahh,” Reki panted. “Joe, hahh, give me a moment.” Reki gulped in another breath. “The final is about to start. Joe won all his races. Are you still going to watch?”

Kaoru hesitated for a moment, but in the end stood up, brushing the dirt off his costume from where he’d been sitting. “I suppose. He’ll be insufferable if I skip.”

“Oh, good,” Reki said in relief. “Joe seemed pretty down when he thought you weren’t coming.”

“He’d get over it,” Kaoru muttered. 

“Would he, though?” Shadow said to himself, quietly enough that Kaoru could pretend not to hear.

“Let’s get on with it, then,” Kaoru said loudly, striding off in the direction of the race without waiting. Reki and Shadow both jogged to catch up to him, and they walked back together to the sound of Reki and Shadow bickering and chattering.

ooo

They ended up arriving just after the race started, so they didn’t get to see Kojiro off. Shadow suggested they ride his car down to greet Kojiro at the finish line, so the kids piled into the back seat and Kaoru in the passenger side. Reki was in the middle while Miya complained that he didn’t have enough room, shoving Reki towards the other side. Reki argued back, but didn’t fight Miya’s shoves at all, probably because they pushed him into Langa’s space. Kaoru could see Langa’s faint blush in the rearview mirror.

“Settle down back there,” Kaoru scolded, and the children obediently quieted down. Reki was practically in Langa’s lap while Miya had half the back seat to himself, sprawled out like a king. No one seemed unhappy about this arrangement, so Kaoru just hummed and minded his own business. 

When they reached the bottom, the race was close. One girl was particularly good, hot on Kojiro’s heels. Kaoru recognized her from previous tournaments; she was a regular and older than most of the other participants. Kojiro strategically and frequently cut her off at the turns, and she was steaming with frustration. There was another man further behind, the third participant of the final, struggling to keep up with the other two on the long stretches. Reki commented he’d trailed behind in his other races, too, but managed to make up the difference in the factory to pass the qualifiers. Kaoru was told both their names, and Kaoru promptly forgot each. 

Kaoru could tell Kojiro was skating seriously, but also cautiously. In close races, skaters often made reckless decisions to gain ground and a few precious seconds. Kojiro, in particular, appreciated the excitement of foolhardy maneuvers and last-minute turnarounds. Still, that kind of recklessness meant there was a higher risk of wiping out as well, which could completely cost someone a race. Kojiro seemed to have decided not to risk it this time as he had pulled ahead.

In the factory, though, the man who’d been trailing behind dove headlong into the obstacles with nothing to lose. Kaoru’s eyes widened as he made a particularly dangerous jump, pulling ahead. The man wobbled, but stayed on his board, holding the lead. The woman also started riding more recklessly, and Kojiro was forced to take some risks. 

Kaoru unwittingly sucked in a harsh breath when Kojiro made a particularly insane jump; if he fell, he’d most certainly die from the height or jagged edges below. Kaoru’s hands trembled a bit, so he crossed his arms to hide his nerves. He’d seen Kojiro skate recklessly hundreds of times, but as they got older, somehow it got harder to watch, not easier.

It was a close race, but Kojiro won with a flare. The audience was going wild with cheers; Kaoru let out a sigh of relief as Kojiro crossed the finish line all in one piece. As soon as he did, Kojiro started scanning the crowd, waving off a few girls who’d come up to congratulate him. When he spotted Kaoru, his eyes lit up. Kaoru shifted his weight self-consciously. 

“Cherry,” Kojiro called, hopping back on his skateboard and rolling over to where Kaoru was standing with Shadow and the kids. “You came!”

“I said I would,” Kaoru said, carefully keeping any emotion out of his voice. 

“Joe, that was really cool!” Reki gushed, hopping up and down in his excitement. “Can you teach me how to do that trick you did on that last rail? You were all like whoosh, and your skateboard was like whoosh -”

“Me too,” Miya interjected. “If you teach Reki, you have to teach me, too!”

“Can I learn too?” Langa added hopefully, and Kojiro patted him on the head. With some more cajoling, Kojiro started dispersing tips and advice to the kid’s excitement, but Kojiro’s eyes kept flickering over to Kaoru, who stayed quiet.

The crowd started to disperse, friends of Kojiro calling out congratulations, some patting him on the back before they headed out. There were some disappointed faces amongst some of the competitors, but overall, most seemed to be in high spirits. Kaoru thought that the tournament didn’t so much turn out to be about winning a date, but more just an excuse for a bunch of competitive skaters to duke it out. Kaoru was glad the whole business was done.

Well, almost.

“Kaoru?” Kojiro said uncertainly. “Are you mad? You’re quiet…”

“I’m not mad,” Kaoru said coolly, ignoring the way Shadow widened his eyes at him significantly from the corner of his vision. 

“It kind of sounds like you’re mad,” Kojiro said.

“It kind of sounds like you’re an idiot,” Kaoru responded.

“Kaoru,” Kojiro complained.

“Kojiro, ” Kaoru imitated his tone.

They glared at each other a long moment, scowling. 

And then… Kaoru got an idea in his head. A stupid, stupid idea. But it would convince Kojiro he wasn’t mad, and Kaoru had the perfect excuse. After so many years of pining, could Kaoru do this, just one time? Kojiro had done it first, after all… 

Kaoru tugged down his mask, grabbed Kojiro’s collar, and pulled him down for a kiss. 

Kojiro made a sound of shock, but didn’t pull away, freezing up much like Kaoru probably had earlier. Kaoru didn’t deepen the kiss, really making it just a press of lips. Even so, it sort of made Kaoru want to cry. 

Kaoru didn’t prolong it and let Kojiro go quickly. Kojiro looked completely stunned, and he’d turned so red it reached down to his neck. 

“There’s kids here,” Miya could be heard complaining quietly, quickly hushed by Shadow.

“I’m not mad,” Kaoru said, struggling to maintain his best poker face. He tugged back up his mask and looked away. “It was just a kiss, see? So let’s forget about it. Now we’re even.”

“That- you- that-” Kojiro stammered, completely stunned, still red. Cute , Kaoru sighed internally, and didn’t push the thought down like he normally did. He let the thought come and pass, resigned. Between the tournament, Kojiro’s kiss, the panic attack, and the conversation with Shadow… Kaoru felt raw, tired, and sad. 

“I’m going to head home,” Kaoru announced, deciding he’d had enough for the night. He’d fulfilled his obligations and was decidedly exhausted. He patted Miya on the head, gave Shadow and the teens a nod, and stepped on Carla. Pushing off, he started coasting towards the exit. 

“Kaoru, wait,” Kojiro called before he could get far. Kaoru dragged his foot, pausing to look back at him in question. “That- That is-”

“What?”

“Did- did you want to go on that date?” Kojiro asked anxiously. “From the tournament…”

“Didn’t you join so that I wouldn’t have to?” Kaoru asked, confused. Was Kojiro looking for a thank you? “You won. I appreciate it.”

“No, I meant,” Kojiro hesitated, seeming to deflate a little. “With me.”

“Oh,” Kaoru said, still confused. “If anyone asks, we can always just tell them that we did. There’s no need to force yourself. The kids already know you only did it as a favor, so there’s no one here to keep up the pretense for.”

“Oh,” Kojiro said weakly. Behind Kojiro’s back, Shadow was making an ‘X’ with his arms, shaking his head at Kaoru violently. Miya had his face in his hands again, while Langa and Reki looked dismayed. “I just… wanted to make sure.”

“Goodnight, Kojiro,” Kaoru said tiredly. Kojiro looked away, not meeting his eyes, but gave a nod. Kaoru kicked off again, and desperately tried not to think of anything the whole ride home.

Chapter Text

Kojiro’s parents had divorced when he was just two years old. They’d been a bit of a distant presence in Kojiro’s life, involved enough that they weren’t hated but busy enough for him to be lonely. Until she died when Kojiro was around thirteen, Kojiro’s grandmother had been his primary caregiver, and Kaoru and Kojiro adored her. 

For the New Year's just before she died, along with the Otoshidama she always gave both of them, she’d gifted them their very first skateboards. When they were little, they used to go on walks with her to the skatepark near Kojiro’s house. They’d hang out near the track and watch the older kids do their tricks. Kaoru and Kojiro had always been excited by the jumps, pretending to do the same tricks in Obaa-san’s backyard. 

Of course, she’d also given them helmets and kneepads. “You have to wear them when you ride,” she told them sternly. “They’ll take care of you, just like you take care of each other.”

Back when she’d been alive, they’d always worn their helmets and kneepads or else risk the scolding of a lifetime. Even when she’d started getting sick towards the end, she’d ask Kojiro and Kaoru to take her along with them to the park to get some fresh air. They’d push her along in her wheelchair, and she’d laugh delightedly when they pretended to make her wheelchair do mannys and ollies. She’d ask them to perform the actual tricks on their boards, and they took turns showing off while she cheered them on. She used to think their bickering was hilarious. She and Kaoru used to gang up on Kojiro together, teasing him relentlessly.

Kaoru and Kojiro had both cried hard at her funeral—it was one of the few times Kaoru had seen Kojiro cry. They’d been too old for it, but they’d clutched at each other’s hands the whole time. Even though Kaoru was sad too, he remembered he’d forced himself not to cry too much in front of Kojiro outside the funeral. It wasn’t his place. It was his job to take care of Kojiro, now. 

Obaa-san had been an amazing cook and had taught Kojiro many of her skills. Kaoru had never held much of an interest himself, but he regretted never learning the basics from her after she died. Kojiro’s father lived in another prefecture; he’d come back briefly for the funeral to help, but ultimately Obaa-san had been Kojiro’s maternal grandmother, so his father hadn’t stuck around long. Kojiro’s mother had a job where she worked weekends and often evenings as well. She’d leave Kojiro money to buy lunch and often cooked enough for leftovers, but at that age, she’d known Kojiro could cook and often left him to his own means.

Unfortunately, although Kojiro could cook, after Obaa-san died, he wouldn’t . 

“You need to eat, idiot,” Kaoru would tell him when Kojiro came to school without a lunch. Kaoru would make him take a few bites from Kaoru’s lunch, but Kojiro always muttered that he wasn’t hungry. Kaoru’s boxed lunches weren’t on the same level as Obaa-san’s, and this was the only period in Kaoru’s life where he felt keenly his inability to cook. 

After school, Kaoru would go over to Kojiro’s house so Kojiro wouldn’t be alone. Kojiro would curl up on the couch or bed for hours. Kaoru would play movies and anime to try and distract him, but sometimes Kojiro just wanted to sit in silence. For a few weeks, he had to be coaxed to do his homework and eat. Kojiro refused to go to Kaoru’s house during this time, not wanting to leave his grandmother’s old house and the memories behind, so Kaoru’s mom often sent along leftovers and told Kaoru to stay with Kojiro as long as he needed.

“Please cook, Kojiro?” Kaoru would ask him, trying to tug him off the couch. Kojiro’s eyes would tear up and he’d hide his face in a pillow. Kaoru stopped asking, suspecting that cooking reminded Kojiro too much of his grandmother. Kojiro seemed stuck in a place where he couldn’t bear to forget but also couldn’t bear to remember.

Kaoru went hunting through the kitchen looking for recipes, but unfortunately, Obaa-san had made most of her dishes from memory. Kojiro knew many of them, but that didn’t help if Kojiro refused to cook. 

Kaoru had hung out in the kitchen sometimes while they prepared meals but he’d never paid much attention. He strained his memory trying to remember even one of the recipes. Carbonara hadn’t seemed so hard; Kaoru thought he might at least be able to get it close. He looked up several recipes online for reference. He was tempted to cheat and use store-bought noodles, but Obaa-san had always made everything from scratch, so he resisted the urge.

...He’d ended up setting off the fire alarm, the noodles stuck to the pan, and the flavor could almost be classified as toxic. The commotion had disturbed Kojiro, who had shuffled reluctantly off the couch right in time to catch Kaoru trying to taste the gooey noodles to see if they were salvageable. 

Kaoru had promptly spat out the attempt, running to the sink to rinse out the aftertaste, gagging.

It was worth it, though, because for the first time in three weeks, Kojiro laughed. Kojiro had looked surprised at himself at first, abruptly stopping, but then he’d looked at Kaoru’s face again and started laughing all over again. 

“This is vile,” Kojiro said, walking over and delightedly poking at the pot. 

“Shut up,” Kaoru had said half-heartedly, drying his mouth with the kitchen towel. He waved a towel at the open window to let out the smoke, finally airing out the kitchen enough that the fire alarm stopped blaring. 

“What were you trying to make?” Kojiro asked, turning off the stove before going back to poking the concoction, sounding pleased. “It’s disgusting!”

“...Carbonara,” Kaoru admitted reluctantly, sighing. 

“That’s not even that hard,” Kojiro said, laughing again.

“I was trying to do it from scratch,” Kaoru huffed.

“You… were you trying to make it like Obaa-san?” Kojiro asked tentatively, laughter finally quieting.

“Yeah,” Kaoru muttered. “You weren’t eating. I thought…”

Kaoru felt too embarrassed to finish his sentence. He’d been too arrogant to think he could match Obaa-san’s cooking in a hundred years, much less on his first attempt. Kojiro looked at him with a conflicted expression, seeming to debate with himself. He stared down at the pot, before taking a deep breath and coming to a decision.

“You started the noodles too soon,” Kojiro told him. “I’ll… I’ll show you how to do it. Here, clean this pot and I’ll get the ingredients ready.”

And Kaoru hadn’t liked to cook, but that night, he’d thought it wasn’t so bad after all. Kojiro had patiently taught him, and Kaoru had watched him do the more difficult tasks, slicing and dicing with a steady hand, managing a speed and evenness that Kaoru could never hope to match. 

That night, Kojiro had laughed for the first time in three weeks, and he’d cooked for the first time in weeks too. The carbonara had tasted just like Obaa-san’s, and both of them pretended not to notice the other subtly blowing their nose in their napkins when they took their first bites. But Kojiro had given him a watery smile over the table after, and when Kojiro’s mom had come home late, she’d taken a bite and started crying too. She’d hugged them both and told them they were both good boys, and then she’d smiled too. 

ooo

Kaoru went to the restaurant as usual that Monday, although each step felt heavy. He was tempted to skip this week, but he also didn’t want to admit that anything was out of the ordinary. He stood outside the door a moment, breathing in deeply and making sure to keep his expression even. Swallowing hard, he opened the door to its familiar jingle. 

Kojiro glanced up as he entered, but his eyes quickly darted away, focusing on wiping the tables down. His shoulders hunched and his lips tightened.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kaoru asked, a bit confused. For a moment, he wondered it Kojiro was upset that Kaoru kissed him, but that was hardly fair. Kojiro had started it.

“Are you serious?” Kojiro asked, looking at him incredulously.

“Is this about the… you know?” Kaoru couldn’t say it.

“The kiss, you mean?” Kojiro asked acidly.

“You started it!” Kaoru exclaimed. 

“Yeah, but- You-” Kojiro didn’t seem to know how to respond to that one.

“Why are you making a big deal out of this?” Kaoru asked crossly. “It’s wasn’t even a particularly passionate kiss.” There hadn’t even been tongue, or any wandering hands! Kaoru had seen Kojiro entangled with women in much more scandalous situations.

“Are you seriously playing dumb?” Kojiro demanded, face drained of color. “I got rejected!”

Kaoru blinked, taken aback before the pieces clicked. He ignored the small pang at the knowledge that Kojiro was dating someone he liked enough to fight about. 

“I didn’t realize you were interested in someone right now,” Kaoru said honestly. “Did she see me kiss you and reject you?” It would explain why Kojiro was mad, at least.

“You-” Kojiro started and stopped, a flicker of uncertainty entering his eyes. “Kaoru, if you’re playing dumb, it’s not funny. I’m serious.”

“Why would I play dumb?” Kaoru asked irritably. He’d never seen Kojiro this angry over one of his flings before and it stung. “Do I know her or something? You never mentioned anyone.”

Kojiro stared at him; Kaoru stared back. He wished he hadn’t come tonight. 

“Look, clearly you don’t want me here,” Kaoru said peevishly, turning on his heel for the door. “I’ll see you at S.” S wasn’t for another two weeks; surely that’d be plenty of time for Kojiro to cool off and for Kaoru to suppress his jealousy. 

“Wait, Kaoru,” Kojiro called after him, but Kaoru had brought Carla. Letting the door slam behind him, he took off as fast as he could, heading for home.

ooo

They didn’t talk about it. A week later, Miya sent a group text telling everyone that he was inviting himself over to Joe’s restaurant, and after Joe finished his shift, it was time for him to teach them the trick they’d admired from the tournament. He said everyone else’s skating was so hopeless, they better be there to learn a thing or two. He added an asterisk to say *except Cherry, but Cherry better show up because he explained things better than Joe.

He hesitated, not sure he’d be welcome, but Kojiro generally didn’t hold onto his anger long. He’d probably cooled off already; maybe he’d even worked out the misunderstanding with his girl already. Kaoru thought the kids might be a good buffer to ease everything back to normal. Besides, it sounded a bit fun.

Miya had said 6:00, so Kaoru showed up at 6:15 to make sure everyone had arrived for maximum buffer. Despite this, when he arrived, the only one there was Shadow, who’d brought along a young girl.

“The kids are running late,” Kojiro greeted him, and Kaoru felt relieved that he didn’t sound angry anymore. “Reki messaged me. They’ll probably be here closer to 6:30.”

“Oh,” Kaoru said, unsure what to say. Feeling awkward, he turned his focus to Shadow and the girl he’d brought, who looked around Miya’s age. “Is this your sister?” he asked. 

“Yeah, this is Himari,” Shadow introduced. 

“Nice to meet you, Himari-san,” Kaoru said politely, bowing his head slightly. The girl flushed, fidgeting in her seat. “My name is Sakurayashiki Kaoru.”

“Nice to meet you, Sakurayashiki-san,” Himari said, before boldly continuing, “You’re really pretty!”

“Ah,” Kaoru blinked down at her while Shadow hissed at her to have some shame. Kojiro sighed from behind the counter, stirring a cup of tea. “Thank you.”

“Onii-chan says you get fits like mine,” she continued, and Kaoru choked on the tea Kojiro had just handed him. Kojiro also froze from where he’d been about to walk away. “He said you have a robot that plays you music to calm down just like I count. Can I meet your robot?”

“Hima-chan,” Shadow hissed, glancing anxiously at Kojiro. “You weren’t supposed to ask him about that.”

“It’s all right,” Kaoru said, recovering. Still, it wasn’t like anyone here didn’t already know. “Kojiro already knows. I don’t really like to talk about it, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t bring it up while the others are here. But yes, sometimes I have anxiety attacks. My ‘robot’ is an AI named Carla. Right now, she’s a bracelet, see?”

Himari leaned over the table to take a look at the glowing purple band, looking fascinated. “Hello, Carla,” she said.

“Hello, Himari-chan,” Carla said, the bracelet lighting up. Himari’s eyes brightened, and she clapped.

“So cool!” she said, and Kaoru decided he liked this girl. 

“Your brother said you liked anime?” Kaoru asked, making conversation. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kojiro had given up all pretense of working, just staring at them. He didn’t know what was so interesting. “There’s another boy your age coming soon who likes it too. You should ask him about it.”

“Oh,” she said excitedly. “Is he cute? Does he like Demon Slayer?”

Kaoru looked over at Shadow, unable to remember if that was the anime he’d mentioned. 

“Yes, he does,” Shadow said, rolling his eyes. “And at your age, no boys should be cute! Focus on school!” he scolded.

“Bleh,” she retorted, sticking out her tongue. 

The siblings started bickering for a bit, and not long after, the rest of the kids arrived, the bell above the door jingling as the group trailed in. 

“Hi, Cherry! Hi, Shadow!” Reki said brightly. To Himari, he went, “Who are you?”

“Reki,” Kaoru said in a warning tone. “What name do you use outside of S?”

“Oh, right,” Reki said. “Hi, Sakurayashiki-san! Hi, Hiromi-kun! Who are you?” he asked Himari again.

“What’s for dinner?” Miya demanded before she could answer, while Langa gave his own quiet greetings. Kaoru made a quiet note of Shadow’s name this time. 

The kids hit it off, asking Himari if she liked anime (a lot) and if she liked skating (sometimes). Kaoru sipped his tea, quietly listening and wondering if he and Kojiro had ever really been so young. Kojiro came back and asked what they wanted.

“Sakurayashiki-san,” Shadow asked for his sister, the last to order. “What did you say your favorite was? Something-nara…”

“Carbonara,” Kaoru told both of them. Kojiro let out an audible breath, but when Kaoru glanced over, Kojiro didn’t say anything. His smile looked strained, though. Kaoru internally shrugged it off. “Your brother said you like pasta?”

“Mm,” Himari agreed, nodding quickly. She told Kojiro, “I’ll try that then!”

“Right,” Kojiro said, a bit more curt than he usually was with customers. Kaoru wondered if he’d had a busy afternoon. “Kaoru, can you help me in the kitchen?”

“Ugh,” Kaoru said. “Is this why you asked me here? Manual labor?” But got up to follow him anyway. They must have been short-staffed; it would explain Kojiro’s strange mood as well. Though it wasn’t like Kaoru was much help in the kitchen; he was usually delegated to washing duty.

Sure enough, a large stack of dishes towered in the back, so Kaoru went over to the dishwashing station and rolled up his sleeves. As he worked, he noticed from the corner of his eye that Kojiro kept opening his mouth to speak, before stopping himself with a frustrated huff. He didn’t seem as angry as last time, but he still seemed frustrated about something. After what happened last week, Kaoru was a bit reluctant to ask him what was wrong.

Well, even without prying, Kojiro finally asked.

“When did you and Shadow get so close?” Kojiro said, clearly aiming for casual. If Kaoru hadn’t known him so well, he might not have noticed how tense Kojiro was despite the easy tone of his voice. Kaoru didn’t really understand what he was getting at. Maybe Kojiro didn’t like Shadow? Well, Kaoru could hardly blame him, given his S persona.

“I don’t think we’re that close,” Kaoru said slowly, picking at a particularly sticky piece of food on a pan. He squirted some more soap on his sponge. Really, Shadow had only learned by unfortunate circumstance; Kaoru never would’ve chosen to tell him. If anything, Kaoru was tempted to avoid him, but it wasn’t really practical with S and the kids coming to the restaurant.

“You seemed to know a lot about his sister,” Kojiro said. “And he knew about your anxiety…” 

“We spoke a bit at the hospital,” Kaoru said vaguely, which wasn’t a lie but was certainly misleading. He didn’t want to tell Kojiro about his panic attack, though, because then Kojiro would ask if something set it off and when it happened. Kaoru scowled at the fact that that stupid kiss was still haunting him.

“I visited you at the hospital every day,” Kojiro said, some frustration leaking into his voice. “Neither of you seemed that close then. Did you have an attack in front of him? How did he know about the music? I thought you said you hadn’t had an attack in years… Did Adam set it off?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Kaoru said, his chest feeling tight. “Hiromi—”

“You call him by his first name?” Kojiro blurted, looking away from the vegetables he’d been cutting in favor of gaping at Kaoru. 

Well, truthfully, Kaoru hadn’t actually known his name until twenty minutes ago, and didn’t even know his surname… But it seemed rude to admit that.

“I call you by your first name too,” Kaoru said for lack of anything better to say. This whole conversation was odd. He just wanted to go back to their usual bickering, but now the mood was all strange. Kojiro seemed like he was biting his tongue and he wouldn’t look at Kaoru anymore, instead turning to glare at the pot on the stove. Kaoru stared down at the half-dirty dish he was washing.

The thing was… Kaoru recognized that Kojiro sounded jealous. Kojiro probably felt Shadow had taken his place as ‘Kaoru’s best friend’ or something like that. If it was before the tournament, Kaoru would’ve just called him an idiot and goaded Kojiro into an argument until they were back to normal. But after the kisses and Kojiro’s anger last week, Kaoru felt like they were teetering on an edge right now, and his usual insults might tip them the wrong way.

“I don’t know his last name,” Kaoru finally said. “And I didn’t tell him about my fits. He just caught me having one by chance. Afterwards he told me his sister got them too, and that’s when we talked about his sister.”

“Oh,” Kojiro said, voice small. When Kaoru peeked at him, Kojiro looked vaguely ashamed. Kaoru quickly turned away to glare at the sponge instead.

“Yes, oh ,” Kaoru said, glare intensifying and scrubbing a new dish with particular vigor. He felt his frustration bubbling up. “Look, these past few weeks have been frankly awful. Can we just go back to normal? I really can’t handle you being weird right now.”

And it really had been. Between the challengers the past two months, the ridiculous tournament, Kojiro’s kiss, Kojiro’s anger, and Kaoru’s fit and the memories that came with it, he was completely emotionally drained. Kaoru had no capacity left to deal with Kojiro if he wanted to fight. There was a long silence, to the point that Kaoru almost wondered if Kojiro hadn’t heard him. 

“Okay, Kaoru,” Kojiro said softly at last. “Whatever you want.”

Chapter Text

Life got back to normal after that. Kojiro seemed to let go whatever problem he had with Shadow, and challengers stopped demanding beefs from Kaoru for dates. Everyone went to S, Kaoru and Kojiro fell back into their bickering, and the kids continued begging for skateboarding tips.

Kaoru did notice that Kojiro seemed to have less women around, though. One day, Kaoru finally asked about it out of pure masochism. He’d been wondering if Kojiro had started dating someone seriously, perhaps that girl who’d rejected him.

However, he didn’t get the answer he expected.

“That’s ‘cause everyone thinks you guys are dating now,” Miya piped up before Kojiro could answer. Kojiro sent the kid a glare. 

“That’s absurd,” Kaoru said instinctively, before thinking it through. Upon consideration, he could see where the rumors were coming from, after the… display at the tournament. Kojiro’s scowl grew more pronounced. 

“Wait, you’re still not dating?” Reki blurted out, and Shadow went to slap a none-too-gentle hand over the boy’s mouth. He was just a moment slower than Langa who’d done the same, so there were two consecutive slaps as Langa slapped a hand over Reki’s mouth, and Shadow slapped a palm over Langa’s hand. From underneath both, a muffled “ow” could be heard.

“Why would we be dating?” Kaoru asked Reki, eyes narrowed, before another thought occurred to him. To Kojiro, he asked, “Why don’t you correct them? Doesn’t it get in the way of your dating?”

“...I thought it might keep people from asking you for more beefs,” Kojiro said, avoiding his eyes. 

“You don’t have to go that far,” Kaoru said bluntly, quashing the little part of him that was pleased. “I don’t want you complaining to me that you can’t get a date because of me.”

“It’s fine,” Kojiro said, still not looking at him. “There’s not really anyone new I’m interested in dating anyway. Unless you don’t want people to think you’re dating me?”

“Hm,” Kaoru said neutrally. “Doesn’t matter, I suppose. Treat me well, honey.”

Kojiro choked, and the kids all groaned.

ooo

It had been weeks since the tournament, and their bickering had fallen into their usual habits for the most part. The only difference was after that, without Kaoru meaning it to, the pet names had turned into a bit of an ongoing act. They’d always used pet names a bit sarcastically, but it got to the point where they were much more frequent.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a muscle-brained gorilla, we wouldn’t be late,” Kaoru said one evening as they were tearing apart the restaurant, looking for the car keys. 

“It’s better than the time you lost our parking ticket in L.A., sweetheart, ” Kojiro called from the kitchen.

“You’ve lost way more things than I have over the years, dear ,” Kaoru called back irritably, checking the tables in case Kojiro had set them down while cleaning.

“Oh yeah?” Kojiro asked. “Name ‘em, then!”

“We don’t have all night,” Kaoru said sardonically. He decided to move to the kitchen, not finding them in the eating area. Kojiro spent most of his time back there, anyway. He nearly bumped into Kojiro in the doorway, who was about to exit as he entered.

“Just admit you can’t think of any, precious,” Kojiro murmured, leaning his face in close. Kaoru’s breath stuttered.

“I can think of several, darling, ” Kaoru said as snootily as he could, but it came out a bit too breathless.

“Hmm,” Kojiro said as he leaned in, not seeming focused on the argument anymore. Kojiro leaned in further and kissed him, and Kaoru’s brain short circuited. 

Kaoru’s glasses dug into his skin, and Kojiro’s hand reached up and tangled in Kaoru’s hair. The other arm wrapped around Kaoru’s waist; Kaoru thought himself muscular enough, but Kojiro’s arm made him feel small. Unlike when they had an audience, Kojiro did deepen the kiss this time, tilting his head and using just a bit of tongue. 

Kaoru didn’t understand what was going on. If everyone thought they were dating, was Kojiro just sexually frustrated since he couldn’t go out with any girls right now? 

Kojiro pulled away just an inch, eyes flickering down to Kaoru’s lips before going back up to Kaoru’s eyes to check his reaction. 

“Are you mad?” Kojiro murmured, studying him carefully. Kaoru’s hands tightened on Kojiro’s apron, either to hold him in place or push him away, he wasn’t sure.

“You- What are you doing?” Kaoru asked weakly, trying and failing to sound confrontational.

“You didn’t get mad last time I kissed you,” Kojiro said. “I know it’s because you don’t care enough, but I keep thinking… how much will you let me get away with?”

Kaoru stared at him mutely. Since when did Kaoru not care? Was Kojiro playing dumb again?

“Are you going to take your ‘revenge’ like last time, or should I let you go?” Kojiro asked softly, looking very uncertain. 

It was easier to think without the tournament, without the audience… If Kojiro was turning to him because women thought they were dating, Kaoru knew the correct thing to do would be to tell everyone they broke up. But… Kojiro had said it was fine. Was it all right for Kaoru to go along with this?

...Would Kaoru emotionally recover when Kojiro broke it off?

The longer he waited, the more the hopeful look in Kojiro’s eyes faded. Kojiro started to pull away, and Kaoru panicked; he needed more time to think, but he was out of time.

And so Kaoru decided to kick himself about it later, and take what was offered. 

Kaoru yanked Kojiro back by the shirt, hands still clenched in his apron, and clumsily shoved their mouths together. Kojiro made a sound of surprise; the angle was poor, so Kaoru moved his hands to Kojiro’s face and hair instead to move him to a better position. Kojiro let out a soft “mm” and wrapped his arms around Kaoru again. One hand trailed up to Kaoru’s neck, and Kaoru shivered when the fingers grazed his bare skin. Kojiro’s hands were always warm, unlike Kaoru, who always ran cold. 

“Can we skip S tonight?” Kojiro asked against his lips, giving him a light bite. Kaoru shuddered. 

“I suppose we can’t find the keys anyway,” Kaoru muttered. 

“Hmm, right,” Kojiro said, lowering his lips to Kaoru’s neck. When he spoke, his breath ghosted over Kaoru’s skin. “The keys.”

Kojiro lifted up Kaoru with one arm, and Kaoru let out an indignant squawk, to which Kojiro paid no mind. Kaoru was carried back into the kitchen, away from the windows, and placed on the counter next to the sink. Kojiro continued to kiss him urgently, and Kaoru stressed for a moment when he couldn’t remember if they’d locked the door, but the thought flit away when Kojiro started to untie his hakama. It was long past opening hours regardless; the closed sign was up…

He really couldn’t bring himself to worry about it when Kojiro dropped to one knee in front of him, between Kaoru’s legs where they dangled off the counter. After that, there really wasn’t much time for thinking at all.

ooo

Kaoru didn’t actually have extensive experience in this area. Although he’d had the occasional dalliance, he’d never really felt comfortable in the aftermath, and this was a thousand times more awkward than any encounter he’d ever had.

After all, he’d never had relations with his best friend of twenty-some years in the back of his commercial kitchen before. They’d both just finished and were coming down from the high; Kaoru was still sitting on the counter and Kojiro was catching his breath, panting against Kaoru’s bare shoulder.

Meanwhile, Kaoru was doing his best not to panic. He carefully kept his face impassive, but the weight of everything was slowly crushing him internally. He’d never wanted to be one of Kojiro’s one-night stands. He wanted-

He wanted-

…More than that, and this was all he would ever get. 

Kaoru had gotten carried away too, but a part of him felt disappointed that Kojiro had done this. Not even worth a date first, just a quickie in the back of his restaurant. Kojiro had done this despite knowing Kaoru’s unrequited feelings, despite twenty years of friendship. 

But, no, Kaoru had gone along with it. It was his own fault.

“Kaoru?” Kojiro asked softly, having caught his breath. His face was still close, and he reached up to gently brush back a strand of hair that had gotten caught in Kaoru’s mouth. Kaoru looked away. 

There was nothing for it. It was too late to take it back, and Kaoru didn’t want another fight. The only thing to do, then, was to feign normality. He could have a little panic about it later, but for now, it was time to suppress. 

With a twinge of irony, Kaoru finally spotted the lost keys while avoiding Kojiro’s gaze. They were set on the shelf above the sink, halfway under a carelessly tossed rag. 

“If we leave now, we might still make S,” Kaoru said, gently pushing Kojiro back so he could slide down from the counter. He tugged his hakama back on, tugging it over his shoulders and fumbling with the tie with slightly unsteady hands.

“What?” Kojiro said blankly. 

“The keys,” Kaoru said, walking over a few steps to the sink to reveal them under the rag. “I found them.”

Kojiro stared at him. 

Kaoru held up the keys and raised an eyebrow. 

“Well?” Kaoru asked snippily, as if he wasn’t internally dying from painful awkwardness. 

“Are you serious right now?” Kojiro asked incredulously. 

“What do you want me to do?” Kaoru snapped back, a tinge of his helplessness entering his tone. Kojiro seemed to hear it, and hesitating, finally looked as awkward as Kaoru felt. 

“Okay,” Kojiro said slowly. “Let’s go to S. But let me fix your hair first, unless you want everyone to know what we were just doing. It’s a disaster.”

“Whose fault is that, brute?” Kaoru demanded, but obediently turned around to let Kojiro work on his hair. He shivered, thinking what those fingers had been doing just a few minutes before. The same hands that had tangled his hair now gently and methodically worked through the knots, and pulled the hair into a ponytail.

“You’re the one who said to pull it ‘harder,’” Kojiro grumbled, and Kaoru’s neck flushed hot with embarrassment.

“That wasn’t what I was talking about!” Kaoru said, and immediately regretted it; that was so much worse.

“Oh?” Kojiro asked, indeed sounding smug. He leaned in close to whisper in Kaoru’s ear. “Then what were you talking about, sweetheart?”

“Agh!” Kaoru tried to squirm away, and the half-made ponytail fell. “Forget it, I’ll finish it myself!”

“I’m teasing, I’m just teasing,” Kojiro said, tugging him back. “I’ve got it. Do you have a hair band?”

“Here,” Kaoru muttered, slipping one out of his pocket. Kojiro finished tying it off, and then gave a friendly tug to signal he was done. 

The car ride was even more awkward. Kojiro kept sending him neutral, considering looks in the rearview mirror. Kaoru determinedly kept his gaze out the passenger window. They’d known each other long enough that they didn’t always chat or bicker in the car, often riding with bouts of silence—especially for long distance drives—but they were usually comfortable and familiar. Kaoru felt like this silence was a bubble too delicate to deliberately pop. 

When they skated into the main area, Reki was the first to spot them, giving an enthusiastic wave.

“You guys are late,” he shouted over. “Miya and Langa are having a rematch!”

“You kids aren’t fighting, are you?” Kojiro asked, swivelling his board as he came to a stop in front of the teen. 

“Nah, it’s just a friendly match,” Reki said. “Well, as friendly as Miya ever gets, at least. Why’re you guys so late?”

Kojiro coughed, very obviously acting suspiciously, and Kaoru gave his calves a kick. 

“It was this idiot’s fault, obviously,” Kaoru said.

“What?” Kojiro squawked. “Hey, it wasn’t all me! You-”

“How is it my fault you lost your keys?” Kaoru demanded indignantly. 

“Wait,” Kojiro said. “You were talking about the keys?”

“Obviously I was talking about the keys,” Kaoru said, sending a pointed look in Reki’s direction. Some conversation was not appropriate in public! And certainly not around children! “What else would I be talking about?”

“I could think of another thing or two,” Kojiro retorted.

“Shut up, dimwit,” Kaoru said, voice rising in pitch. 

“Make me, four-eyes,” Kojiro said. 

“Langa and Miya are starting, guys,” Reki said loudly, tapping Kojiro’s arm excitedly. He seemed to have long lost interest in their argument and was focused on the start line. Kaoru gave his own odd cough and turned to watch the race.

And the races went on. They’d arrived so late, there wasn’t much time before the crowds started dispersing. 

“I’m going to head back,” Kaoru told Kojiro as the last races of the night started. He held out the keys; he’d become the designated holder as he had many more pockets than Kojiro’s shirtless attire, and skated much more conservatively. The keys were less likely to fall out of his pockets if he held them.

“Sure, let’s go,” Kojiro said as he grabbed the keychain. 

“No, you stay,” Kaoru said. “I want to take Carla back, clear my head.”

“It’s dark,” Kojiro protested. “And late. Let me drive you back.”

“I’ve skated back myself plenty of times,” Kaoru sniffed. “I’m not a child.”

“Kaoru…” Kojiro said, looking reluctant. Kaoru suspected he was more worried that Kaoru was avoiding him than the lateness of the hour. 

“Don’t use that name at S,” Kaoru said, more mildly than usual. No one else was near them. “I want arancini this Friday, so make sure you make some.”

“...You’re for sure coming?” Kojiro asked, sounding a bit relieved although there was still tension around his eyes.

“If you make arancini,” Kaoru said, unrelenting. He hopped on Carla before Kojiro agreed, already starting to skate off. He knew even if Kojiro refused now, on Friday, a bowl of arancini would be waiting for him.

“Yes, princess,” Kojiro said snidely, before calling after him, “But only because I was thinking of adding it to the specials this week anyway!”

Kaoru gave a casual wave over his shoulder, not looking back, and shot off into the dark.

ooo

Growing up, Kaoru’s mom always loved braiding his hair. If they were watching a movie together, she’d always have him sit on the floor in front of her seat on the couch, and she’d braid and unbraid his hair in calming, repetitive motions. She’d been the oldest of three sisters growing up, and had often helped Kaoru’s aunts with their hair as children. She knew many different styles and sometimes experimented; Kaoru often thought his mother was an artist in her own right.

One morning in middle school, Kojiro had come over to watch cartoons on one of her days off. It was a hot summer day with only one floor fan in the living room; after fighting over who’d sit directly in front of it, the two boys realized it was too hot for rough housing and sat leaning against each other so they could both be directly in the fan’s breeze. Kaoru was holding up his hair so the cool air would hit the back of his neck; he wasn’t willing to risk losing his spot to Kojiro if he got up to find a hair tie. 

“I could cut it for you,” Kojiro said mischievously, poking at the side of his head. “I bet you’d look great with a buzz cut.”

“I’ll kill you,” Kaoru said, deadpan. It was too hot to fight over trivial things, but if Kojiro came anywhere near him with scissors, there would be no mercy.

“Do you want me to put your hair up, Kaoru?” his mom called from the kitchen. Kaoru was normally too embarrassed to let his mother braid his hair in front of Kojiro, worried the other boy would tease him, but it was so hot…

“Yes, please,” Kaoru answered, fanning his face.

His mother came out a few minutes later with a comb and hair tie, and Kaoru shook his hair behind his back so she could reach it. With deft fingers, she quickly started working through the knots in his hair before beginning the braids.

“I’ll do a crown so it’s off your neck,” she hummed, while Kojiro seemed to have lost interest in the cartoon in favor of watching.

“Kaoru never does anything with his hair,” Kojiro commented, curious. 

“Hmm, he’s too lazy to learn,” Kaoru’s mother told him. “He only knows how to do a ponytail, that’s why he always leaves it down… I don’t know why he keeps it long when he never does anything with it. One day I won’t be around to braid your hair, you know,” she scolded Kaoru now. 

“If I didn’t keep my hair long, whose hair would you braid?” Kaoru grumbled, scowling and ignoring that last part. 

“Can I learn?” Kojiro asked instead.

“You just want to learn so you can hit on girls,” Kaoru complained. “Don’t teach him, Mom.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Kojiro said consideringly. “It seems like a good way to get close to someone you like…”

“Ugh,” Kaoru said.

“Boys,” his mother scolded. “Be nice. Come here, Kojiro, I’ll teach you.”

“Ha!” Kojiro gloated, sticking his tongue out at Kaoru. He jumped to his feet to sit behind him and next to Kaoru’s mother. Kaoru didn’t protest; joke was on him, now Kaoru had the front seat to the floor fan all to himself. He refocused on the cartoon, tuning out the “hold this, this goes up and over” of his mother’s gentle instructions guiding Kojiro’s hands.

…Kojiro’s first attempt was terrible, but that didn’t seem to deter him. For the rest of middle school and into high school, Kojiro would quietly braid Kaoru’s hair while they watched TV, Kaoru’s mother occasionally teaching him a new style. 

They had homeroom together throughout high school, and Kojiro always claimed the seat behind Kaoru, sometimes braiding his hair when he was bored. Sure enough, it was a hit with the girls, but not in the way Kojiro had hoped. Instead of asking Kojiro to braid their hair, they all wanted a turn to braid Kaoru’s hair. 

“Ha,” Kaoru smirked one afternoon that Kojiro looked particularly jealous. Mayumi, the prettiest girl in class, had just done a semi-lopsided french braid for Kaoru during their free period. Kojiro’s scowl deepened.

“Whatever,” Kojiro said petulantly, crossing his arms and hunching his shoulders. Kaoru snickered.

“You could try growing out your hair like me,” Kaoru said. Truthfully, he wasn’t actually interested in any of the girls, but teasing Kojiro was his favorite pastime… and this gave him so much material to work with. “Maybe the girls would want to braid your hair too.”

“If you like her so much, she can just do your hair from now on,” Kojiro said irritably. He actually looked rather upset; Kaoru wondered if Kojiro actually liked Mayumi sincerely.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Kaoru said critically. “Do you see how lopsided this is?”

“She didn’t keep it tight enough,” Kojiro grumbled. 

“Yes, yes,” Kaoru said. “You’re clearly the expert, you dope. Redo it for me, then.”

“You’re so bossy,” Kojiro complained, but his eyes lit up. He quickly reached for Kaoru’s hair, running his fingers through it to start over. “...You don’t like her?”

“She’s nice, but,” Kaoru started to say, before wincing at a painful tug. “Ow! Be careful, you clumsy oaf.”

“Sorry,” Kojiro muttered. “You do like her, then?”

“Ugh, you didn’t let me finish,” Kaoru said. “She’s nice, but I’m not interested in her, if that’s what you mean.”

“Hmph,” Kojiro said, but his hands gentled from the stiff motions from before.

“You like her, then?” Kaoru curiously echoed the question and Kojiro sputtered.

“What? No,” Kojiro said.

“Hmm? You’re clearly jealous,” Kaoru said.

“I am not,” Kojiro protested.

“It’s not like you to hide a crush,” Kaoru mused.

“Yeah, right,” Kojiro muttered under his breath, an ironic tone to his words. He seemed to be doing a side braid, and he shifted to sit in front of Kaoru to finish the front part, hopping up to sit on Kaoru’s desk.

“You can tell me,” Kaoru said. “You always know when I have a crush, anyway.”

“That’s because you’re so obvious,” Kojiro retorted. “You’ve never told me!”

“I’ve never had to,” Kaoru countered.

“Ugh,” Kojiro said. “Well, I’m obvious too. You just never want to see it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kaoru asked, annoyed.

“Nothing. Your braid is done,” Kojiro said abruptly, giving it a light tug to signal he was done. He looked up, and Kaoru suddenly felt a bit awkward at how close Kojiro’s face was to his own. “Let’s go get lunch.”

“Race you,” Kaoru said, as an excuse to run off the itchy feeling that suddenly tugged at his heart. He darted out of his chair and dove for the door.

“Asshole, you have a head start,” Kojiro cried out after him, then, even more annoyed— “You’re going to mess up your braid!”

“Then fix it for me after!” Kaoru called back, laughing as he took off down the hall.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

“Is that a hickey?” Shadow asked one night when the skaters were meeting at Kojiro’s restaurant. He pointed at a spot on Kaoru’s neck. “You might want to cover that before the kids get here.”

Kaoru smacked a hand over his neck, and reflexively sent a glare at Kojiro over the counter. Shadow and Kaoru were sitting at the front counter, apparently the only punctual ones of the group. 

“Oops,” Kojiro said, and Shadow’s eyes widened, looking between them.

“Wait, you two are finally dating?” Shadow blurted, only to wince when Kaoru smacked the back of his head none-too-gently.

“Shut up,” Kaoru snapped defensively. “And we’re not dating.”

From the corner of his eye, Kaoru saw that Kojiro looked away quickly, suddenly incredibly intent on the cash register, frowning deeply. Shadow continued to look between them with wide eyes. Well, the cat was out of the bag, anyway. Might as well give Kojiro the scolding he deserved. There were no patrons near enough to hear them, anyway.

“Are you in high school,” Kaoru hissed at Kojiro. Kaoru grabbed his own hair and tugged it to the side Shadow had pointed to, hoping to cover the offending mark. “Who still gives hickeys at this age?”

“It was an accident,” Kojiro protested. He’d said that the previous time, too. They’d been sleeping together for several weeks now.

“Accident, my ass,” Kaoru said, incensed.

“Doing that was not an accident,” Kojiro leered. 

“Agh, I’m right here,” Shadow said, slapping his hands over his ears.

“I don’t have any concealer,” Kaoru fretted, wondering if he needed to go home, and Shadow sighed.

“I brought some makeup for S later,” Shadow said, digging in his bag and then holding out a small kit. “It probably won’t match your tone, but if you keep your hair like that, I don’t think the kids will notice.”

“Thank you,” Kaoru said stiffly, and went to the bathroom to apply it. By the time he came out, Shadow and Kojiro were in the middle of a heated, whispered conversation. Shadow looked about ready to pull out his hair while Kojiro had a stubborn set to his mouth.

“What are you talking about?” Kaoru asked suspiciously, and they both jumped guiltily. 

“Nothing,” they said in unison. Kaoru narrowed his eyes at them. Shadow broke under the glare first.

“Just, wondering how you guys are, uh, not dating,” Shadow said reluctantly. “When you clearly… er…”

“We’re all adults here,” Kaoru sniffed. “Kojiro and I are…intimate, because Kojiro’s been struggling to get a date lately. That’s all.”

“What,” Kojiro said flatly. 

“What?” Kaoru asked guilelessly in return. Shadow looked between them with frustration.

“So Joe’s not seeing anyone else,” Shadow said slowly. “And you’re not seeing anyone else. So you’re exclusively sleeping together. But not dating.”

“Why are we having this conversation,” Kaoru asked, glaring. 

“Right, right,” Shadow said, raising his hands. “Not my business—”

“Kaoru, you’re not seeing anyone else?” Kojiro cut in, leaning over the counter and looking at him intently. Kaoru scowled, embarrassed.

“Obviously not. You know I don’t like strangers,” Kaoru muttered, before his curiosity got the better of him. “I’m assuming you are?”

“No, I’m not really interested in anyone else right now,” Kojiro said, still intent. “Are you looking for someone else?”

“How has this been going on for weeks and you never had this conversation?” Shadow muttered, burying his head in his arms with a groan. Kaoru wondered how much Kojiro had told him while he was in the bathroom, if Shadow already had an idea for how long they’d been doing this.

“You’ll probably find someone else long before I do,” Kaoru said truthfully, stabbing irritably at his drink with his straw.

“So as long as I don’t find someone else, you won’t look for anyone else?” Kojiro asked tentatively, and Kaoru froze, feeling very unsure at how this conversation was going. Damn Shadow. Everything was perfectly, comfortably unspoken until now.

“I’m not planning to,” Kaoru said slowly, wondering if Kojiro was going to call it off. Maybe Kojiro was finally starting to feel guilty that they were sleeping together while Kaoru was still hung up on him. 

“Then I won’t find someone else,” Kojiro said, looking determined. He leaned in close, looking directly into Kaoru’s eyes, and Kaoru had to look away, heart pounding. “It’s only fair. All right, Kaoru? We’re exclusive now, you can’t go dating around.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kaoru asked in bewilderment.  In the background, Shadow was slowly banging his own forehead against the counter.  “You’re the one who’s practically a damn gigolo!”

“Do you agree, Kaoru?” Kojiro asked, ignoring the provocation.  “I need you to say it.”

“Do you agree?” Kaoru asked incredulously. “You’re the one who this disadvantages.” 

“I agree,” Kojiro said in frustration. “Now stop dodging the question!”

“Fine, fine,” Kaoru said, for the first time in years, had the smallest spark of hope in his heart. “I agree.”

“Oh my god,” Shadow asked into the void. “Why was that so difficult. Why did I have to be here for that. Why.”

Meanwhile, Kojiro looked quite pleased. “All right, then.”

“Just to clarify,” Shadow said. “You are exclusively sleeping together, you’ve confirmed neither of you are going to date anyone else indefinitely… but you’re not dating?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yes,” Kaoru snapped, still feeling prickly and defensive. He hated talking about feelings. “What about it?”

Kojiro deflated a bit, while Shadow groaned again. Still, Kojiro seemed to maintain a good enough mood, and greeted the kids cheerfully as they arrived, late again.

ooo

“Cherry! I challenge you to a beef,” a young woman came up to him, determined. “If I win, please go on a date with me!”

“Dude, that is so three months ago,” Reki said judgmentally, Langa nodding in agreement. Kojiro glowered at her; Kaoru sighed.  He’d thought they were finally done with this nonsense.

“I was out of town for the tournament,” the woman said. “Please give me a chance.”

“Give it up, lady,” Miya said, crossing his arms identically to Reki next to him. “There’s no way you can beat him anyway.”

“I’ll accept this beef on Cherry’s behalf,” Kojiro said loudly, stepping forward. “I-”

“No,” Kaoru cut him off, snapping his fan shut.

“Yeah, I want to race Cherry, not you,” the woman agreed passionately. 

“Kao- Cherry,” Kojiro protested, catching himself at the last minute. Kaoru sent him a warning look, but otherwise let it slide.

“No,” Kaoru repeated again, this time directed at the woman. “I decline your challenge. I’m not accepting beefs with those stakes anymore.”

“Eh?!” Kojiro and the kids all turned to look at him with the same baffled, shocked looks. Kaoru scowled at them.

“You look like a school of fish,” Kaoru said irritably, as every single one of them was gaping at him with their mouths wide open. “Close your mouths.”

“But Kaoru, your streak,” Kojiro whispered, the kids nodding along. 

“I’ve caused everyone a lot of trouble,” Kaoru finally sighed. He’d made up his mind months ago to put an end to all this; after the tournament, he’d just been fortunate to not have to follow through… until now. “I should’ve done this from the beginning.”

He was too old for this sort of pride. Even Kojiro had turned down beefs before.

“But- But- Joe said you’ve had your streak since high school!” Reki protested in a considerably louder whisper than Kojiro’s. Langa poked him, telling him to lower his voice. Quieter, Reki clarified, “That was like, a MILLION years ago!”

“Yeah,” Miya said; and really, no need to nod that vigorously, Kaoru wasn’t THAT old… “And you can definitely beat this lady anyway!”

“Kaoru, are you sure?” Kojiro whispered urgently. 

“Excuse me,” the woman interrupted loudly, and all of them turned to look at her again. “Would you mind telling me why? Everyone says you would accept anyone who challenged you to a beef!”

“Yes, well,” Kaoru said, willing himself not to look at Kojiro. “I promised someone that I wouldn’t date around. So I’m not willing to bet on this anymore. Please respect my decision.”

“Everyone knows Cherry is dating Joe now,” called a bystander who’d been watching the drama unfold. Kaoru felt heat rise to his face, and he tugged the mask of his costume up higher. “Just leave ‘em alone!”

“Ah, I thought they were just rumors,” the woman said, then finally offered a small bow of apology. “Excuse me.”

“WHAT?” Reki said loudly, then seeing the glances he got from their small audience, lowered his voice to a whisper. “You guys are dating?”

“They’ve obviously been dating since the tournament, doofus,” Miya said, rolling his eyes. Kaoru widened his eyes. What.

“It was not obvious! They totally looked like they were still pining! Right, Langa?” Reki turned to his friend for support, eyes wide and imploring. Kaoru darted a look at Kojiro, panicked, but Kojiro looked away quickly when their eyes met.

“Eh, sorry Reki,” Langa said, looking sheepish. “I figured it out a while ago. Don’t you remember when Miya called Cherry that one Saturday we went to Ishikawa Park, and then Joe picked up Cherry’s phone and said he was still sleeping?”

“Cherry had promised to help me fix my laser flip,” Miya said defensively. “It was after nine! Aren’t adults supposed to all wake up early?”

“Oh yeah,” Reki muttered. “I guess that was weird, now that I think about it…”

“Joe and I are not dating,” Kaoru finally spoke up, a bit at a loss. He didn’t really want to explain to the kids ‘friends with benefits,’ but he didn’t think Kojiro would want to lie to them.

“WHAT?” this time all three of the kids yelped in unison. 

“Kaoru,” Kojiro said loudly, grabbing Kaoru’s arm. “Can I talk to you for a moment? Alone?”

Kojiro’s face was pink, and he had an unhappy frown twisting his lips. Kaoru felt his stomach sink. Kojiro never really kept any of his women for very long, and the longest was always just a few months. By those standards, Kaoru had lasted a very long time… But after this, maybe Kojiro had finally had enough. With all of S misunderstanding and now the kids…

“Fine,” Kaoru said neutrally, and let himself be tugged away from the groups of people, off towards the edges of the woods. They went far enough that there wasn’t much light, away from the lamps and chatter of voices.

Kojiro finally stopped walking, but when he opened his mouth to speak, no words came out, and he bit his lip instead. Kojiro always did this when he was worried, especially about Kaoru. That’s when Kaoru knew for sure, Kojiro was worried how Kaoru would react when he broke it off.

“You want to break it off,” Kaoru said neutrally; the very least he could do was maintain his pride. He would do this with dignity.

“What?” Kojiro said, sounding a bit like he’d had the breath punched out of him. “No! I mean, do you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Kaoru said carefully, confused now but still cautious. “But then why do you look so nervous?”

“Kaoru, you…” Kojiro started, but couldn’t seem to finish. 

“You aren’t upset that everyone thinks we’re dating?” Kaoru asked doubtfully.

“They thought that anyway,” Kojiro said with frustration. “I don’t care what other people think. I care what you think.”

“I’m under no delusions,” Kaoru snapped. “I know you’re only messing around with me because you don’t have other options right now… And you don’t have other options because that stupid tournament made everyone think we’re dating.”

“I let them think that,” Kojiro snapped back. “You’re the one who said you’re only sleeping with me because you don’t want to pick up strangers! You’re the one who keeps saying that we’re not dating!”

“What’s the point in dating when it’s not serious?” Kaoru demanded, and to his horror, felt his throat starting to tighten up. 

“You,” Kojiro said, and his voice cracked a little. “If you’re not serious, then why…? I know you care about me as a friend, so isn’t this a bit cruel? I know I started this because I wanted it so badly, but Kaoru, this is really…”

“What?” Kaoru said blankly. What.

“Ugh, just forget it!” Kojiro said angrily, and it was too dark to see any tears, but Kojiro wiped suspiciously at his eyes. He turned away, starting to walk back towards the halfpipe. “Never mind, I know it’s my own fault, getting my hopes up…”

“Wait,” Kaoru said urgently, the words fully registering, and he reached out to grab Kojiro’s wrist. “Wait! Kojiro, do you want to date me?”

“...Obviously,” Kojiro muttered after a long hesitation. “Didn’t I make it obvious enough?”

“Then why didn’t you ask me?” Kaoru asked in shock, shaking Kojiro’s arm where he gripped his wrist. 

“You just said you weren’t serious!” Kojiro said incredulously.

“No, I thought you weren’t serious!” Kaoru said, equally incredulous.

“How can I not be serious when I’ve liked you since middle school?” Kojiro shouted, finally losing his temper completely. Kaoru flinched a bit in shock. 

Middle school.

Wait.

But that was even longer… than Kaoru.

“Middle school?” Kaoru asked faintly. 

“I thought you were always pretending not to see,” Kojiro said, lowering his voice.

“I’ve liked you for years,” Kaoru said at last, voice still faint. “I thought you were pretending not to see. I didn’t think you even liked men.”

They both fell silent, staring at each other. Kojiro’s mouth was gaping wide open, but Kaoru didn’t even have the heart to scold him to close it.

They were both fools. Morons. Complete idiots. Kojiro’s stupidity was contagious.

“Years?” Kojiro said weakly. 

“Just out of high school,” Kaoru answered, voice wavering. “I figured it out… when you were in Italy. I even thought I might’ve liked you longer, and just not realized…”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Kojiro asked, some of the shock wearing off and his tone turned wondering. He stepped closer to Kaoru, who avoided his gaze, but a gentle hand lifted his chin and then cupped his cheek. “You idiot…”

“You always knew when I had a crush,” Kaoru said defensively. “You knew I liked Adam before I did. You knew I liked men before I did! You always said I was so obvious… I was always shit at figuring out who you liked.”

“That’s because you were always guessing everyone except yourself,” Kojiro said in exasperation. 

“Well, apparently, you did the same thing,” Kaoru said mulishly. He shivered when Kojiro’s fingers trailed down to his neck. “This is your fault. Stupid gorilla.”

“Hmm,” Kojiro said, ignoring him in favor of kissing him softly. At this point, they’d done much more explicit things than this innocent brush of lips, but somehow Kaoru’s heart was pounding as hard as their very first one. Kojiro pulled away just slightly, whispering, “Douche.”

“You’re the-” Kaoru was cut off before he could finish the insult. “Mmph.”

Kojiro laughed against his lips, and Kaoru smacked his arm in retaliation before giving in, reaching up to wrap his arms around Kojiro’s neck to deepen the kiss.

ooo

Back when Kojiro was studying in culinary school, they still saw each other quite a few times despite the distance to Italy. Kojiro came home to Japan for summer breaks, Kaoru visited him twice in Europe, and they met up once in California.

The first time Kaoru visited, after spending a week in Italy, they’d decided to take a train to Marseille for the weekend. It was supposed to be a ten-hour overnight  ride, but due to a breakdown at one of the stops, the ten-hour ride turned into an eighteen-hour hell. 

Unsure how long repairs would take, Kojiro and Kaoru had been reluctant to stray too far from the train lest they lose their ride. This unfortunately meant their entertainment and meal options were limited.

“French cuisine at its finest,” Kaoru said snidely, offering Kojiro the bag of Lays they’d bought from the train concession. The label said “saveur cheeseburger.” A true local delicacy.

“We’re technically in Switzerland,” Kojiro sighed, pulling out a handful of chips before handing the bag back. He munched dejectedly. 

The train had bunk beds for the overnight travelers, and Kojiro and Kaoru had the compartment to themselves; the other two patrons—the lucky bastards—had disembarked at a previous stop. They were both on the bottom bunk; Kaoru leaned against the wall with several pillows wedged in between the wall and his back. When Kaoru had refused to give up any of the pillows, Kojiro had accepted defeat and plopped his head in Kaoru’s lap instead.

At age nineteen, Kaoru hadn’t quite yet realized  why this action made him feel flustered. In any case, he hid his discomfit much as he always did—picking a fight.

Reaching down, Kaoru pinched Kojiro’s cheek and stretched it.

“Sit up if you’re going to eat, you ape,” Kaoru scolded. “You’re getting crumbs all over my bunk.”

“I’m comfortable,” Kojiro complained, or at least, that’s what Kaoru thought he said… The words came out distorted with Kaoru pulling his cheek.

“Are you a kid? You’re going to choke,” Kaoru groused, letting go of his cheek to try and lift Kojiro up out of his lap. Crumbs scattered as, in rebellion, Kojiro stuffed the rest of the chips he was holding into his mouth all at once.

“No,” Kojiro said through his mouthful of food, using his newly freed hands to throw his arms around Kaoru’s waist and cling.. 

“Agh, you idiot,” Kaoru yelped. “Now you’re getting crumbs all over me!”

Kojiro’s shoulders shook with laughter, and he buried his face in Kaoru’s stomach, childishly clinging tighter. In spite of himself, Kaoru sighed, and found himself thinking that it was… cute.

This was a significant epiphany  because Kaoru was objectively cranky. They’d been stuck on the train for hours, they only had  junk food for lunch, there was nothing to do…

And yet in that moment, Kaoru realized…

Kaoru realized…

He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Shit.

They were on vacation hell, and all Kaoru could think was, he’d missed this. He hadn’t seen Kojiro in months. Even with their trip going all wrong, at least they could still spend time like this. Bickering on the phone wasn’t the same as…

Kojiro’s grip lightened, realizing Kaoru had given up on pushing him off. Kojiro rolled back over, head pillowed on Kaoru’s thigh, and looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a grin. The light filtered in through the tiny train window, making his brown eyes look gold.

Ah, Kaoru thought.

This was the moment he realized he was in love with Kojiro. 

ooo

“That’s such a random time to realize you like me,” Kojiro mused, after wheedling enough that Kaoru had finally caved and told him.

“Shut up, it’s not like you were any better,” Kaoru muttered. They’d been watching a movie together at Kojiro’s apartment, but neither of them had seemed inclined to get up even after the credits rolled. They’d closed the curtains to prevent light from reflecting off the screen, and even with the sun filtering in, it was still dim, giving the room an almost dreamy feel.

“So you like it when I put my head in your lap?” Kojiro asked, falling over and doing just that. He gazed up at Kaoru with a smile, and for a moment, Kaoru really did feel like they were still young adults catching a train from Italy. Reaching down, he pinched Kojiro’s cheeks.

“Owww. Douche,” Kojiro whined, except it came out more like “doulsh.”

“Hmm,” Kaoru ignored him, instead leaning down to kiss him. They weren’t on a train anymore, and they weren’t nineteen. Instead of pushing him off, Kaoru could lean over and kiss Kojiro for no reason other than he could. 

And all these years later, Kaoru still wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.