Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Did you bring a straight man to pride, Nicho?”

Nicholas follows Kei’s line of sight and sees the man standing close to Euijoo, who looks at the other with a happy smile. He snorts: “I can personally assure you that Fuma-hyung is not straight.”

Kei’s eyes widen. “This is Fuma? The guy from your gym that Euijoo had the hots for?”

Nicholas hums in agreement and takes a sip from his sparkly slushy. Fuma is saying something that makes Euijoo blush and hide his laugh behind a hand. Nicholas is glad that they worked through this, because now it only makes him feel a little weird.

“Wait, personally?” Kei squints at Fuma and Euijoo. “Did he fuck you?” The you refers to Euijoo and Nicholas because that is how they work.

“He us, we him,” Nicholas shrugs. “Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Kei shoots back. “So this is what you get up to when I have to go on a work trip.” Then he spots something and throws back the rest of his lemonade. “Uh-oh.”

Nicholas and Kei watch Harua stumble into Fuma, who easily catches him around his waist. They should really be watching what Harua drinks from now on. Harua beams up at Fuma and takes out a little makeup kit from his pouch, asking something. Fuma smiles at him and says something in return, nodding.

“When is Maki coming?”, Kei wonders aloud. “I should get to that before he does.” A jealous Maki is not a fun Maki, and this is the first pride parade for their younger friends. Everyone should get to enjoy it. Taki and Yuma are off findings snacks, but Maki and Jo hadn’t arrived yet.

“Sure,” Nicholas smirks. “For Maki’s sake.” Kei slaps his shoulder and makes his way over to interrupt Harua painting glitter on Fuma’s cheekbones, still pressed close. Now that Kei can get a closer look, he notices that Fuma’s oversized tanktop is a little cropped and dips deep at the sides, revealing a glimpse of his boxers and his toned body when he moves just so. Yeah, probably not straight to show up to pride like that.

Nicholas trails after him, still talking: “He wouldn’t be a bad choice for your first time, you know. He’d take care of Rua.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Kei mutters.

“I don’t think he’s into Haru’s type, anyway,” Nicholas continues. They can both see the indulgent smile on Fuma’s face meeting Harua’s dazed concentration.

They stop in front of the little group. “Hi!” Kei grins and raises a hand. “I’m Kei.”

Fuma looks over without moving his head so Harua can keep painting a little gay flag, but his eyes nevertheless travel up and down Kei’s body. It makes him feel strangely self-conscious, even though Kei is very confident in his appearance. What is Fuma’s type? He thinks the other’s eyes linger on his exposed legs – does he like the skirt or not?

His face gives nothing away when he smiles back. “I’m Fuma. Nice to meet you.” He offers his hand to shake which Kei finds kind of cute at the same time as he is already taking it. Fuma’s hand feels cool and large.

Kei can see that he is wearing circle lenses, which only emphasize his big, dark eyes that he can’t seem to look away from. Nicholas has settled into Euijoo’s side and under the arm thrown around his shoulder, watching with a smirk. Euijoo is putting on a similar expression.

“I know Nicholas and Euijoo from the gym,” Fuma continues and Kei nods. Before he can say something stupid, like he knows, Harua claps his hands together and leans back to admire his handiwork. “Done!”

The colours of the gay flag match the white and turquoise glitter lightly smeared across Fuma’s cheekbones. Harua has also added some rhinestones under one eye. He is rummaging through his bag for a mirror but comes upon something else first. “Oh!”, he exclaims, pulling a little can out.

Harua looks Fuma up and down. “Can I put some glitter on your arms?”, he touches Fuma’s shoulder and arms, and Nicholas is suddenly jerking his head to behind them. Kei looks over and sees Jo and Maki on their way. They can tell from afar that Maki is already frowning.

“Sure,” Fuma shrugs but also pulls away a little with a careful look at Harua’s face. He seems to have decided to no longer give the younger boy any ideas.

“What about me?”, Kei chimes in while Harua is still shaking the spray can. Kei’s make-up is already done, a subtle pink, violet and blue on his eyelids but he holds out his arms.

Luckily, Harua is easily distracted and turns to him. His eyes, however, don’t settle on his arms but his legs. He doesn’t hesitate to spray a metallic shimmer down the side of Kei’s right thigh, over the belt sitting on his bare skin.

Meanwhile, Euijoo has pulled Fuma aside a little and he and Nicholas turn his face this way and that in an exaggerated display of admiration. Kei thinks he can see Fuma’s eyes shift to him though, landing on his legs again. So – he probably likes the skirt.

Kei just about catches himself before grinning when Fuma’s eyes flicker up and meet his.

Harua is squatting, having decided that the left leg should be glittery from the knee down to Kei’s boots, when Jo and Maki arrive.

“Hi,” Jo greets them softly. Maki is looking down at Harua and over to Fuma. The three of them turn to the newcomers as Kei pulls Jo into a sidehug. He is wearing his ace flag like a cape, reaching down to the end of his jeans shorts.

“Hi,” Maki also mutters and Harua looks back with wide eyes, scrambling to stand. Maki’s hand immediately finds his arm to help him and Harua easily attaches himself to Maki. “Maki, you’re here,” he whispers, and Kei can see how Maki’s frown melts away.

“Have you been drinking?”, Maki whispers back, touching the back of his hand to Harua’s flushed neck. “Just a little, and only with Euijoo.” Harua smiles in embarrassment. “I was a little nervous.”

It is their first pride and Maki, Harua and Taki decided not to wear any flags or symbols. “No need,” Maki responds and squeezes Harua closer.

“Oi!”, someone yells, and the entire group turns around. They see Yuma spread his pan flag behind himself as he starts running toward them, Taki keeping up with his arms full of ice creams and sodas and a big laugh on his face.

Yuma stops just short of crashing into Jo, who has also spread his cape, and the two wrap each other in a hug. Kei tucks Taki under his arm and relieves him of two fruit popsicles. He hands them over to Nicholas and Euijoo, who quickly exchange them between each other.

“What do you like?”, Kei asks Fuma, who had fallen silent and was just observing since Jo and Maki’s arrival.

“Oh,” Taki says. “I don’t think we have enough.” Fuma hadn’t arrived with Euijoo yet when the two set out for snacks.

“I don’t need one,” Fuma says at the same time as Kei says: “You can have mine.”

They stop short and look at each other. Kei swears he can see Nicholas and Euijoo giggle and whisper to each other from the corner of his eye. “We can share?”, Kei suggests and Fuma shakes his head with a smile. “It’s really fine.”

“I insist.” Kei picks out an ice cream cone from the pile in Taki’s arms. “I usually take the matcha, do you like that?”

Fuma scans his face for another second before shrugging. “Sure, thanks.”

Taki distributes the other ice cream bars and drinks while Kei unwraps the matcha cone. He holds it out for Fuma, but instead of taking it from his fingers, Fuma leans in to take a bite, all the while holding eye contact with Kei.

“Hm,” Fuma hums around the ice cream. He licks his lips. “You can have the rest.”

Kei knows he is blinking rapidly and feels like all the younger ones are watching them with baited breaths – except for Jo, who is happily nibbling on his chocolate. Nicholas turns away, shoulders shaking, as Euijoo nudges his side.

“Okay,” Kei barely exhales and gathers himself.

“I’m Yuma!”, Yuma finally dispels the tension and reaches out his non-sticky hand. The others introduce themselves to Fuma in order, except for Harua. Maki does it for him: “This is Harua.” His arm around Harua shifts around his neck – the possessive is implied.

But Fuma is all pleasant smiles. “Nice to meet you. I’m Fuma, Euijoo and Nicholas’ friend.”

Friend indeed, Kei thinks. “So!”, he says. “Shall we join the crowd? Are you all hydrated?” His own tote is full of water bottles and Taki, good little brother that he is, wields two more bottles in his pockets.

“Let’s wait a bit, my dance group should be coming by soon,” Yuma says and takes another bite of his strawberry ice cream. They have found a spot in the shade to watch the parade, but the people marching are completely exposed to the sun now.

Kei pulls a cap from his bag and puts it on backwards, a contrast to his tight top and skirt. He searches his bag. “Shoot,” he mumbles. “I can’t find my sunscreen.” He looks up at Nicholas and Euijoo, and Euijoo blinks back with a guilty expression.

“I think I left it on the kitchen table after using it this morning,” he says, eyes extra wide so no one can be angry with him.

“I can run back to the convenience store,” Taki offers when Fuma speaks up: “I have sunscreen.” He pulls out a spray bottle from the bum bag slung across his broad shoulders. He holds it up: “Who needs some?”

Maki steps up first, still looking a bit wary of the older. “Me please.” Fuma nods and starts generously spraying down his legs and forearms. Maki doesn’t shy away when he tugs on the collar of his light flannel to spray his neck and chest, and scrunches his face up cutely when Fuma tells him to close his eyes, betraying his age.

The entire process is so fatherly, Maki seems to have decided Fuma is no harm and turns around to Harua. “What about you?”

Harua isn’t showing much skin with the wide dress shirt over his flowy sundress reaching his ankles, and he shakes his head. Yuma and Jo say they already put some on and Taki tries the same until one look at Kei’s expression makes him step forward with a grim face.

Fuma laughs and sprays him all over thoroughly.

Nicholas and Euijoo have already walked closer to the parade and the younger ones turn to follow. Fuma is waiting for Kei’s reaction, so he goes over. “Could you touch me up?”

Fuma only nods. And then drops to the ground, along with Kei’s stomach.

He sprays his legs methodically, tapping Kei’s calf for him to turn around. Kei tries to calm down when he can no longer see Fuma on his knees in front of him, but not seeing him also makes him nervous. He flinches when the cold spray suddenly hits his bare shoulder blades and hears Fuma mumble an apology.

Fuma gets to his neck, shoulders and arms before circling around him. He doesn’t meet Kei’s gaze, concentrating on his collarbones. “Close your eyes,” he eventually breathes out and Kei’s eyes immediately flutter close. There is the lightest touch on his forehead, brushing away a strand of hair, before the sunscreen cools his heated face.

“Okay,” Fuma says, and Kei sees him step away when he opens his eyes. He quickly reaches out his hand: “Now you.”

Fuma hands over the bottle, a grin pulling on the corners of his mouth. He is wearing loose, long pants cinched at the waist with a black belt, but Kei quickly sprays down from his shoulders to his hands.

“Raise your arms,” he commands and Fuma obeys, revealing more pale skin. Kei sprays his ribcage with shaking hands, feeling Fuma’s burning gaze on his face. This should not be happening on the sidewalk at a pride parade, hundreds of people around them, Yuma and Nicholas turning back to them every now and then with the fattest smirks on their faces.

When Kei turns to the other side, he spots small, fading bruises along Fuma’s ribs, and he is entirely too familiar with Nicholas’ habits not to recognize those marks.

“Okay,” Kei says, not done at all, and fumbles the cap back on. He unzips Fuma’s bag, stuffs the bottle away – is that silver foil? – and zips the bag close quickly.

Fuma is laughing breathily, but Kei ignores him, turning to walk to the others. He can feel Fuma following close behind, but the other joins Euijoo’s side when Kei squeezes in between Taki and Jo.

“There comes Yuma’s crew,” Jo says quietly, and Kei can physically feel himself calm down. The younger always has this effect on him.

While accompanying Jo on his journey of discovery, he has learnt a new thing or two about himself as well. Like that he is interested in sex, casual or not, only with people he knows and loves. But none of this seems to apply to Fuma, whom his traitorous mind has decided he wants.

“There they are!”, Yuma shouts. He runs to meet his members and the rest follow, already friendly with many of them. Two women and a guy seem to recognize Fuma and come to hug him, quickly pulling him into the parade.

Kei sees his friends link hands before joining the crowd and he smiles fondly, keeping an eye out for all of them. The three youngest join the ranks in front of Fuma, flanked by Euijoo and Nicholas, while Yuma has linked arms with Jo at the front of the group.

Kei is happy to join Euijoo’s side. The younger elbows him in the side softly. “See?”, he says. Unfortunately, Kei immediately understands what he means. He had teased Euijoo relentlessly for his crush on ‘the gym guy’ and now he was the one floundering because of ice cream, of all things.

He rolls his eyes and nudges back. “Yeah,” he mutters. “I see.”

Chapter Text

Euijoo, Nicholas, Taki and Kei’s apartment is the biggest, so that is where they go after the parade is over, all sweaty and exhausted but happy. Fuma tried to pull out earlier, but Euijoo had insisted he come at least get a drink before leaving. They had emptied all the bottles they brought throughout the day.

Kei herds everyone in the two bathrooms to at least freshen up, while he only changes into an oversized shirt and comfy shorts. Then he goes to the kitchen. He splashes some water in his face first to cool off and takes the watermelon he had especially prepared out of the fridge.

He is humming to himself as he starts up the coffee machine but nearly jumps out of his skin when someone behind him asks: “Can I help with anything?”

It is Fuma, of course, water drops glistening on his collarbones and damp hair pushed back. The glitter has spread all around his eyes, but the flag is washed off.

It reminds Kei of the scenes burnt into his conscious forever:

The parade went through streets and parks, and past a water playground, where everyone could get refreshed. The dance crew members who knew Fuma quickly dragged him next to one of the fountains, which conveniently went off and drenched Fuma from head to toe.

Kei could not tear his eyes away as he saw how the other man’s cropped tanktop became transparent, clinging to his chest and abs. His friends screamed and danced under the spray of water and Fuma soon joined them, laughing brightly. He raised his arms as he threw his head back and smoothly rolled his body. The short top rose even more, revealing more milky skin.

Yuma took Kei and Nicholas’ hands, pulling them over, though he stopped short of getting all of them completely soaked. Nicholas had not let go of Euijoo’s hand, and Taki went where the fun went, so the five of them jumped and wiggled around without caring about coordination or choreography.

Kei kept looking back at Fuma and more than once found him staring back already. The other pushed his wet hair back and smiled at him, gaze once more wandering up and down Kei’s dancing form. Nicholas and Euijoo started a game of dancing around and against Kei, who laughed and pushed at them, not reciprocating but also not rejecting their playful advances. He noticed the two of them exchange glances and peek at Fuma every so often.

But Fuma only had eyes for Kei, which seemed to please the two to no end. Kei nudged them apart with a roll of his eyes, joining Taki in a locking battle and trying to banish thoughts of Fuma from his mind. Eventually, they had to move on. Maki, Harua and Jo had remained on the side, clapping and jumping with others from the dance crew but they needed to get back into the sun to dry off.

Kei thanked all the gods above when Fuma’s shirt quickly dried and hid most of his toned body again. Not that Kei couldn’t still see the pictures clearly in his head.

Kei shakes himself out of the memory and gulps. “Do you want some decaf?”

“That’s not helping,” Fuma laughs, “but sure, I’ll take some.” He casually walks over to the cutting board and picks up the knife, neatly splitting the melon in half.

“Thanks,” Kei mutters, trying not to watch too closely as Fuma’s muscles are working.

“These too?”, Fuma asks and points at the oranges and apples in the bowl on the counter.

“Maybe an orange,” Kei responds, “Euijoo-” “-likes those,” Fuma finishes and smiles. “I know.” Then he stills and eyes Kei carefully.

“Uh,” he stutters. “I don’t uh-”

Kei snorts. “I know about your, like, arrangement. Even if you liked him, you wouldn’t have a chance I’m afraid.”

Fuma laughs. “Yeah, I know. These two are not to be separated.”

These two are entering the kitchen at that moment. “That’s right,” Nicholas confirms while Euijoo makes a beeline for Fuma’s perfect orange slices and stuffs his mouth with two, showing Nicholas an orange smile and making him guffaw.

Yuma and Jo file in and gratefully accept the glasses of juice Kei hands them. “Rei invited us to her after-party,” he says. “You don’t mind if we leave soon, right?”

“Nope,” Nicholas responds. “Have fun, and look out for Yuma around pretty people, Jo.”

Yuma shouts in indignation, but Jo just laughs and gives him a thumbs-up. Maki, Taki and Harua also enter the living room, the only ones who decided to already take a quick shower. They are all wearing one of Taki’s pyjamas, ready to conclude the day with a film and a sleepover.

“How about you?”, Nicholas nudges Kei. “Are you coming to Jurin and Chisa’s with us?” The two had already announced that pride would continue at their place, with members of the dance company Nicholas and Chisa worked at as well as more of their mutual friends.

“Hm,” Kei hums, thinking about it. That morning he’d been looking forward to reconnecting with some of the friends he hadn’t seen in a while since starting a ‘real’ job, but now he just feels exhausted and ready to do some journaling to sort his muddled thoughts. The film the others want to watch is one of his favourites, too…

“I think I’m going to pass,” he eventually decides.

“You sure?”, Euijoo confirms and Kei nods: “Give them my love.”

“Alright. How about you?” Euijoo turns to Fuma, who has somehow taken over the coffee machine in the meantime and hands a puzzled Kei a steaming cup. “You know Sakura, right? She’ll also be there.”

“Yeah, she invited me.” Fuma prepares his own cup. “But I think I’ll head home soon. Gotta be back at my desk early tomorrow.”

“Oh, come on,” Nicholas snorts. “You only need a ridiculously small amount of sleep.” Then he stops short, his eyes shifting all over the place, while Euijoo facepalms and Yuma raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, you don’t get to comment on me,” he pokes Nicholas’ side.

Thankfully, the others have settled in front of the TV, eating their watermelon and chatting. Or maybe not thankfully, since Harua has sort of imprinted on Fuma, and Maki seems torn because he likes Fuma, but he likes Harua more.

“Alright,” Kei claps his hands together. “You two go change then. Let Harua touch up your makeup.”

Yuma and he carry the rest of the drinks over to the living room, while Fuma makes attempts to wash the knife and cutting board. “You stop that right now,” Kei calls behind himself and Fuma holds up his hands, caught.

“Come here,” Kei commands, “sit,” and Fuma obeys, cross-legged to his feet.

“Alright,” Kei crosses his arms in front of his chest. “What are we ordering?”

“You’re staying home?”, there are basically stars in Taki’s eyes when he looks up at his older brother, who nods in response.

“Hamburgers!” is Maki’s suggestion. “Pizza!”, Harua calls from Euijoo and Nicholas’ bedroom. Taki doesn’t really care. “Donburi,” Yuma throws in, only to be silenced by Jo’s hand. “We’re not even staying,” he giggles.

“How about you?”, Maki asks Fuma.

“Oh, I’m leaving soon,” their new friend answers.

“Why?”, Taki whines. “We’re watching Spirited Away!”

Fuma hesitates: “… for real?”

Maki nods. “You’re staying.”

Fuma looks at Kei. “Would that really be okay?”

“Sure,” Kei and Taki say at the same time. Kei shrugs. “Don’t let yourself be wrapped around their fingers, but of course, you’re welcome to stay.”

“Well,” Fuma mumbles, still searching Kei’s eyes. “One vote for hamburgers, I guess.”

“Yes!”, Maki rejoices and ultimately decides Fuma is fine. “What?”, Harua squeaks from somewhere in the apartment. He comes running with a brush in each hand. “Again?”, he complains.

“Sorry,” Fuma is smiling apologetically but Harua only huffs.

Nicholas and Euijoo emerge from behind him. They have swapped the bright shades and glitter for a darker look, and Nicholas has successfully wrestled Euijoo into a pair of high-waisted, tight black jeans, one of Nicholas’ silk shirts tucked in. Long chains decorate his neck and thin silver rings adorn his fingers.

Nicholas himself is wearing a leather jacket over a colourful batik shirt with a fishnet layer and wide grey jeans. His smoky makeup and leather choker look menacing in direct contrast to Euijoo’s curly hair and cherry red lips.

Kei briefly looks over at Fuma, who is only smiling serenely.

Kei whistles through his teeth. “Ready to break some hearts with just how unavailable you both are?”, he teases.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nicholas waves him off. “Can Euijoo borrow your heeled boots, hyung?”

“Sure.”

And Nicholas immediately produces them from behind his back, putting them in front of Euijoo and offering his arm while Euijoo slips into them and zips them up, gaining some more centimetres on Nicholas, who only stares up at Euijoo with total admiration. He loves when Euijoo towers over him just that little bit more, even when he puts on his own chunky sneakers.

“The makeup is amazing, Harua,” Jo remarks, and Taki agrees. Maki hurries to nod vigorously, looking a little disappointed that he didn’t think to say it first.

“Thank you, guys,” Harua beams with pride and leans on Maki’s shoulder to sit down on the floor.

“Shall we also?” Yuma turns to Jo, who nods and helps Yuma up. “Thank you all,” Yuma gives a little bow with a flourish of his flag, tied around his neck again.

They say their goodbyes, promising to be safe, but it doesn’t really get any quieter after Yuma, Jo, Nicholas and Euijoo have left, because Maki and Taki immediately begin squabbling about the best burger place.

Harua just starts the film, used to it, and the two continue until Fuma grabs Taki’s phone and sends their order without letting them see from where. Fifteen minutes later, their food arrives from the one shop that Kei briefly mentioned, and Taki and Kei quickly set the low living room table, used to hosting their large friend group.

Maki claps his hands together and the others follow suit, giving thanks for the meal before they eat. Kei wants to start with his fries, but “There’s no mayo. Did anyone get mayo?”

When the others shake their heads, he stands up again to go back into the kitchen, getting their own. “Wait, where’s your burger?”, Kei asks when he comes back with the mayo bottle and another bottle of soda.

Fuma just looks up at him with wide eyes, while Harua and Taki fall over each other in laughter. “He can eat a burger in three bites!”, Harua explains.

“For real? How do you enjoy them?”, Kei sits down next to Fuma and hands the bottle to Maki, who fills everyone’s cup.

“I do enjoy them. For other things, I like to take my time, though,” Fuma grins, only a little embarrassed and more than a little proud. Kei does not miss the implication.

“Maki can only manage in five!”, Taki adds, and Kei begins to scold: “Don’t teach him strange things! And you, don’t take Fuma as an example!”

Maki and Fuma just laugh and Fuma holds up a hand for a high-five. Harua grins, looking between the two of them.

“We’re not even half-way through the film and you two have finished eating,” Kei continues his nagging. “Do you want other snacks?”

“I’m good,” Fuma says and leans back against the sofa.

“Maki can have what I can’t finish,” Harua offers.

Kei sighs and turns to his own burger after pushing his fries over to Fuma, who shakes his head. He hadn’t ordered any himself, so Kei just shrugs and focusses on the film.

They clean up after eating, keeping one eye on the film even from the kitchen. The first thing Nicholas invested in when he and Euijoo moved in with Kei and Taki was a dishwasher so there is not even much to do.

Exhausted from the day and full of good food, the younger guys are quickly lulled in by the familiar scenes. Fuma taps Kei’s shoulder and points at the three, both Taki and Maki resting their head on Harua’s shoulders. Only Taki is still making a valiant effort to even keep his eyes open.

“They’re so cute,” Kei whispers, quickly pulling out his phone. Of course, Taki is looking straight at the camera, sticking his tongue out. “Go to bed,” Kei mouths silently. Taki rubs his eyes and gets up, gesturing to Harua and Maki.

“We’ll get them,” Fuma whispers and kneels next to Maki. He slips one arm under his knees and one behind his back and effortlessly picks the youngest up, even though he is well on his way to becoming as tall as Fuma himself. Kei looks away, only hearing Maki’s mumbled German, and giggles.

“What did he say?”, Fuma asks.

“Good night, dad,” Kei explains and hears Fuma snort. Kei hoists Harua up as well and leads the way to Taki’s bedroom. His younger brother is snuggled in on his side of the bed, leaving the blanket open. He’s got the biggest bed in the apartment for this particular purpose, even though he sleeps in the dorm most nights after starting college.

Kei puts Harua down in the middle of the bed and steps away for Fuma to fill the open space with Maki, who rolls over and throws an arm over both his friends before Kei can even pull the blanket over all of them.

“They really are cute,” Fuma mumbles and Kei takes another picture. They carefully close Taki’s door and find themselves standing in the hallway, alone and unsure how to continue. The tension Kei had felt before is suddenly back.

“Do you want to finish the film?”, Kei points to the living room with his thumb.

Fuma smiles and shakes his head. “I have already overstayed.”

“Not at all,” Kei smiles back.

Fuma blinks slowly but then turns to the entrance with the tiniest shake of his head. He slips into his worn sneakers and throws his bag around his shoulders. With a hand on the doorknob, he turns around.

“Can I see you again?”

There’s a funny feeling in Kei’s chest. “Yes,” he breathes out quickly. “Give me your number.” He thrusts his phone into Fuma’s hands.

“I really had fun with all of you today,” Fuma says as he types. He meets Kei’s eyes when he hands back the phone.

Kei nods quickly, opening a new text conversation. “Me too,” he admits. “I mean, I think everyone did.”

Over the day, he had learnt some things about Fuma in the brief conversations they shared, like what he studied and where he works. They quickly bonded over their shared experience as baristas during university. Yuma discovered that they attended the same dance school, and Jo pointed out the little Pokémon sketches that Fuma left on people’s flags when they came around to collect memories.

And Kei still wants to know more, everything. He presses Send.

Fuma pulls his phone from his bag and Kei sees the foil packages glinting once more. Is Fuma actually going home now?

The message Kei sent makes Fuma laugh: The photo of the youngest three in bed with a caption of emojis, a chick, a little bunny and a puppy.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Kei beats him to it: “Can I give you a goodbye ki-”

Kei can’t even finish his question before Fuma slips his phone into his back pocket and puts both hands to Kei’s neck, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. He lingers, kissing Kei’s mouth another time but before Kei can take hold of him and get closer, he draws back.

They breathe into the space between them, searching each other’s eyes.

“I was going to say on the cheek, but that works, too,” Kei finally mutters and Fuma laughs.

“I’m sorry,” he says. Then he raises his hand once more to cup Kei’s cheek and peck his lips. Kei doesn’t let him withdraw all that quickly this time. Fuma’s fingers thread into the soft hair at Kei’s neck, but they eventually part again, a flush rising on their cheeks.

Kei pokes his index in between the zipper of Fuma’s bag and at his chest. “Sorry you didn’t get to use these.”

Fuma looks down and his eyes widen in understanding. But he doesn’t seem embarrassed when he shrugs. “I’m not. You just never know who might need one on a day like this. Safety first.”

Kei leans in until Fuma goes cross-eyed. “That’s sexy,” Kei whispers against his lips and feels more than hears Fuma laughing softly.

“I’ll take my leave,” Fuma mumbles, leaning back though his hand still rests on Kei’s shoulder. “I’ll text you?”

“Me too,” Kei nods. “Let me know when you’re home.”

Fuma’s eyes drop to Kei’s mouth once more, but he only smiles and opens the door, gives a little wave and is gone. Kei rests his forehead on the heavy metal door, enjoying the cool feeling on his flushed skin for a moment.

Then he pulls himself together and goes back to the living room. He turns off the film, picks up their glasses and starts the dishwasher.

He really feels the exhaustion from the day when he is under the shower, finally washing off the shimmer, but he is content, smiling to himself as he presses his fingertips to his lips.

When he emerges again, there are messages waiting for him on his phone. He ignores the others and opens Fuma’s first: I’m home. Talk to you tomorrow. Sleep well.

And a picture of Kei at the parade, looking back at Fuma over his shoulder, a spark in his eyes and a wide smile on his face. Though what he really wants is to call Fuma and talk some more, he only reacts to the photo with a violet heart. Sleep well.

Another message is from Euijoo: By the way. Fuma-hyung hates matcha.