Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Hey, Reo. You want to go on a date?"

Reo hums a noise in affirmation absentmindedly, flipping to the next page in the novel he's currently engrossed in.

"Ah," Nagi continues. "I think we're almost out of fruit jelly—"

Reo's book almost falls out of his hands when he finally registers Nagi’s words. "Wait, what?"

Nagi pulls his head from the fridge to blink lazily at Reo. "I think we're almost out of fruit jelly—"

"No, no—before that. What did you say?"

"Oh. You want to go on a date?"

Reo’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. “With—with you?”

Nagi doesn’t bother giving him any response other than a flat stare. Reo blinks rapidly, straightening from where he had been lounging on the couch.

“Where—” He cuts himself off with a nervous laugh, pushing his bangs out of his face. “Where’s this coming from?”

Reo has half an urge to pinch himself on the hand to check if this was the machination of his unconscious mind. Nagi, asking him out on a date?

Before he can check the reality of his situation with a quick pinch, Nagi speaks up again, fruit jelly pouch in hand. “You know that new video game we’re working on?”

Reo’s eyebrows raise at the mention of Nagi’s job. “Yeah,” he agrees slowly. “What about it?”

Nagi scratches the side of his nose. “We hit a development milestone ahead of schedule.” He shrugs. “I guess it’s a big deal or something, so they’re throwing a party for it.”

“Uh huh,” Reo agrees, still a bit lost on how the topic related to Nagi’s initial question. He didn’t know much about Nagi’s job other than the fact that it consisted of a lot of software that all went entirely over Reo’s head, and that Nagi found it all a pain. He’s long heard Nagi complain that if the pay wasn’t so good, he’d have quit ages ago. Still, Reo can’t begin to imagine how that would relate to Reo, of all people, needing to be Nagi’s date—

"I need a plus one for the party," Nagi continues to explain, and his lips pull down in a slight frown. "Or else I won’t be able to go." He wrinkles his nose. “Not that I want to go,” he clarifies, “but I’ve skipped too many already or something.”

“Oh,” Reo says, relief coloring his tone. “Is that all? You need a date for the event?” Nagi hums in confirmation, and Reo nods his head, finally understanding the other’s situation. “That’s no problem,” he says, fishing in his pocket for his phone and tapping at his list of contacts. “There are a few people I know that I can set you up with,” he remarks absentmindedly as he scrolls through the numbers and names.

“But I asked y—”

“Oh!” Reo interrupts. “Kiho’s available tomorrow at noon! Does that work?” When he looks up from his phone, Nagi’s staring at him strangely. Assuming the expression is resulting from Nagi’s unfamiliarity with the name, Reo hurries to explain. “Kiho’s a sweet girl, I think the two of you will get along pretty well. She even plays video games, like you!”

“Hm,” Nagi says.

Reo taps at his phone screen a few more times before turning to Nagi with a grin. “Alright, tomorrow confirmed, then! I’ll send you the address later.” He puts his phone back into his pocket, then pats the seat on the couch next to him. “Now come on, we’ve got to finish our movie.”

Nagi looks at him without blinking for one moment, then another, then another, before letting out a slight sigh and joining Reo on the couch. Their movie resumes, and Reo lets himself settle in, resting his head against Nagi’s shoulder as bright colors flash across their television. A quiet, indulgent part of Reo kind of hopes that even after Nagi gets a girlfriend, they’ll still be able to keep these movie nights for themselves.

“So?” Reo asks when Nagi returns the next day, a bag of takeout dangling from his right hand. “How did it go? Did you like her?”

Nagi gives a one-shouldered shrug before handing the bag to Reo. “Not really.”

Reo’s brows furrow, even as he makes his way to their kitchen to put the takeout in the fridge. “Oh?” he asks. “Why not?”

Nagi takes a seat at the counter, absently tracing a finger on the surface. “I dunno,” is his vague answer, and when Reo sends him a purposeful look, he simply shrugs. “She was too short, I guess.”

Reo blinks. “Oh,” he says. He frowns. “Why didn’t you tell me you only liked tall girls?”

Nagi shrugs again. “I dunno,” he repeats.

“Alright,” Reo says slowly. He pulls out his phone again, quickly scanning his contacts again. “Then, maybe… ah, Alisa was pretty tall.” He brightens. “And she’s available tomorrow for dinner!” He quickly taps out a message. “I’ll let her know you’re interested in a meeting… and done.”

Nagi makes a face. “Do I have to go?”

“...weren’t you the one that said you needed a date for your event?”

Nagi puts his head on the surface and mutters something into the counter. Reo leans forward.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Nagi sighs.

“How was it?”

“Talked too much.”

“I guess that makes sense…”

“Did you like her?”

“Talked too little.”

“...really?”

“You seriously think I’m going to set my sister up with Nagi?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t serious—come on, didn’t you tell me she was going through a rough patch with her boyfriend? Isn’t she free for even a meeting?”

“Even if she was, no way in hell would I let her go on a date with Nagi.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“You’re so—fine. Fine. What about Kunigami’s sisters? Are any of them—”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Chigiri, wait—”

“What did you think?”

“Her hair was too long.”

“How—”

“Her hair wasn’t the right color.”

“...what is the right color?”

“Purple.”

“...right.”

“Before you hang up—”

“Reo, I do not want to have this conversation with you—”

“—do you know anyone who’s tall, doesn’t talk too much but not too little, and has short, purple hair?”

“...is that a rhetorical question?”

“Huh?”

“You’re seriously asking me if I know any tall person with purple hair?”

“...yeah?”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Oh, come on—”

“So? Did you like her?”

“Her hair wasn’t the right shade of purple.”

Reo manages to resist the urge to repeatedly slam his head into the nearby wall. “Wasn’t the right shade of purple,” he repeats through gritted teeth. “Right, well, then—enlighten me. What would the right shade be?”

Nagi doesn’t bother looking up from his phone from where he’s sprawled on the couch. “HEX code 795ba1,” he rattles off. Reo blinks before sighing and pulling out his phone.

“7-9… what?”

“7-9-5-b-a-1,” Nagi lists off slower. Reo taps the letters and numbers into his phone, then stares blankly at the resulting color.

“Nagi,” Reo says slowly. “This is the exact color of my hair.”

“Mhm,” Nagi hums. Reo throws his hands in the air.

“Of course—of course the people I set you up with won’t have the exact same color hair as me,” Reo says, exasperated. He has half a mind to ask Nagi why he even knows the precise HEX code of his hair, but he figures he has more pressing matters to address. “They’re not me, Nagi.”

The video game noises from Nagi’s phone continue. “Can you just do it, then?”

Reo stares at him. “Can I just…?” He blinks. “Can I just, what, date you?”

Nagi nods. Reo continues staring. If he was in a comic book, there would likely be a panel where gears were shown spinning in his mind as he struggled to process Nagi’s words—since he isn’t in a comic book, all he can do is stare stupidly at Nagi, who refuses to look up from his phone. Reo doesn’t get it, doesn’t get what Nagi is trying to accomplish with his ridiculous suggestion—

“Oh,” Reo says as realization strikes him like a brick. "Oh! You mean fake dating, don't you? As in, we pretend to be dating, right?"

Nagi's gaze, finally, pulls away from his phone to Reo, but only for a moment before landing back on his phone. Something like disappointment flickers across his face. Ah, Reo thinks, his game character must have died. 

"Mm," Nagi says noncommittally.

Reo nods. "It makes sense," he admits slowly. "We already know each other, so it wouldn't be too difficult to fake—plus, you only need it for this one event, right?" He waits for Nagi’s nod before continuing. “Yeah, I guess that would be easier than committing to a whole relationship.” He grins at Nagi. “Less of a pain, right?”

“Less of a pain,” Nagi murmurs. Reo nods. It’s a strange request, to be sure—

—but Reo is a Mikage, and Mikages never back down from a challenge.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. Just for this event—I’ll do it.”

“Yay,” Nagi cheers lazily.

“Ah, you never told me. When’s the event? Later this week?”

“Tomorrow,” Nagi says around a yawn.

“Tomorrow,” Reo says with a nod of his head, before pausing. “Tomorrow?” He gapes at Nagi. “And you didn’t think to—you didn’t tell me it was tomorrow—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Do you even know what you’re going to wear?”

Nagi looks down at his own current outfit—a loose hoodie and some sweatpants. “This, I guess.”

Reo’s mouth drops open even more. “You’re not serious.” Nagi’s blank stare in response tells Reo that unfortunately, Nagi is quite serious, and Reo immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not. We’re going shopping tomorrow.”

Reo expects Nagi to complain a little more before giving in, but he simply blinks at Reo before shrugging. “Okay.” Reo, a little taken aback by the easy concession, can only stare at Nagi for a few moments before blinking out of his own stupor.

“Right,” he says. “Right, then.”

One successful shopping spree later, Reo and Nagi finish their morning outing at a small brunch place that the two frequent often. Reo orders for the both of them, placing the shopping bags containing their haul underneath their table. Nagi, as he typically does, taps away at his phone. Reo usually lets him be, using the time to check on his own business—stocks and the like—but this time, Reo taps his hand on the table to catch Nagi’s attention. Nagi doesn’t look up, but raises his eyebrows to acknowledge the motion.

“So,” Reo starts. “This fake dating business.”

Nagi hums.

“You won’t be able to attend the office party at all unless you have a date, right?” Nagi nods. “So, we need to be convincing. What’s our story?” Nagi makes a questioning noise, and Reo clarifies. “How did we get together, how long have we been together, et cetera.”

“Four years and six months,” Nagi says. Reo blinks.

“That’s, uh… oddly specific.”

“You confessed to me with a candy apple.” A tinny shooting noise sounds from Nagi’s phone. “And I said yes.”

“…also oddly specific, but alright.” Reo taps his fingers against the table. Something about that mention of a candy apple rings recognition in his mind, but it’s too faint to recollect fully. “So I confessed to you five years ago. That should be easy enough to keep straight.”

“Four years,” Nagi corrects, “and six months.”

Reo squints at him. “Right.” Nagi’s insistence on the timeline is strange, but not necessarily extraordinarily out of character for him. It was probably just another one of his idiosyncrasies, like his preference for piggyback rides or distaste of most hard labor. “That’s our story then. What about ground rules?”

“Ground rules?”

“Yeah, you know.” Reo waves a hand ambiguously in the air. “How much you’re comfortable with when we’re around your coworkers.” When Nagi doesn’t offer anything further, Reo prods some more. “You’re fine with hugs?”

“Okay.”

“You’re fine with holding hands?”

“Okay.”

Nagi still hasn’t looked up from his phone. Reo’s eyebrows raise.

“You’re fine with a kiss on the cheek?”

“Okay.”

“You’re fine with a kiss on the lips?”

“Okay.”

Reo leans back with a frown. “I knew it,” he complains. “You’re not even listening to what I’m saying, you’re just agreeing with everything.”

Nagi finally looks up, giving Reo a flat stare for a few seconds before going back to his phone.

“I don’t really care,” he mutters. “Anything’s fine.”

“Anything, huh,” Reo muses. “I think we’ll stick to cheek kisses. If needed.”

Nagi looks like there’s something he wants to say to that, but before he can open his mouth, their plate of pancakes arrives. Reo brightens, taking the fork and knife by its side into his hands and beginning to cut it into smaller pieces.

“I just realized,” Reo says as he offers a forkful to Nagi, who leans forward to take it, “that this means I finally have a chance to meet your coworkers!”

Nagi wrinkles his nose as Reo takes a bite of his own. “You really weren’t missing out.”

Reo laughs. “You say that about everything,” he teases, holding up another forkful to Nagi. “Ah,” he realizes as Nagi eats, “but won’t they be suspicious if I show up as your boyfriend out of nowhere? It’s not like you’ve ever talked about me at work, right?”

Nagi glances to the side. “I’ve mentioned you a few times,” he murmurs. Reo raises his eyebrows.

“Only good things, I hope.”

Nagi hums. It’s not exactly the most reassuring response, but Reo will take it.

It takes only a few more moments for them to finish off the plate, after which their drink arrives. Their smoothie is fit with a heart shaped double straw, and Reo finds the sight somewhat amusing.

“Aww,” he says, “isn’t it cute?”

“I guess.”

Reo reaches over to hit Nagi lightly on the shoulder. “You don’t think anything’s cute, you bore.”

Nagi pokes the straw experimentally. “That’s not true,” he murmurs. He leans forward to take a sip, and Reo is struck with the sudden urge to capture the moment on his phone, so he does just that. Nagi leans back with a blink. “What was that for?”

Reo grins. “No reason,” he says innocently. “Is the smoothie good?”

Nagi eyes him suspiciously for a moment, before nodding. “Not bad, at least.”

“What a glowing recommendation.” Reo takes a sip of his own, his eyes widening when the flavor hits his tongue. “Not bad at all!”

Between the two of them, the smoothie disappears quickly, shortly after which the check arrives. Reo, on instinct, slides his card over without checking the bill, but a strange deduction at the bottom catches his eye. When their waiter returns with Reo’s card, Reo stops her before she can leave again.

“Excuse me,” he says, flashing the girl a polite smile, “but can I ask what this is regarding?” He points to the value in question.

“Since it’s December 24th,” the waiter explains, “there’s a 25% discount for all couples.”

Reo blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Err, but we—”

“Thanks,” Nagi interrupts, grabbing Reo’s hand. “Come on, Reo, let’s go.”

“A-ah, yeah. Let’s.”

Reo allows himself to be tugged out of the café by Nagi, and it’s only once they’re out that he lets out a laugh.

“They thought we were a couple?” Reo asks as he swipes a bit of whipped cream away from Nagi’s cheek. “What gave them that impression?”

Nagi stares at him. “I have no idea,” he says slowly, and Reo shrugs.

“Guess it’ll be easy to convince your coworkers then, hm?”

Nagi hums. Reo links his arm through Nagi’s with a grin.

“Come on, we’ve got to prep your outfit for tonight.” He begins tugging Nagi away, before his feet come to a halt. “Wait, where are the clothes we bought?”

Nagi wordlessly juts a thumb in the direction of the café they are now quite a distance away from. Reo lets out an exasperated sigh.

“…you think they’ll deliver?”

Chapter Text

"Reo, are you wearing makeup?"

Reo blinks, a hand unconsciously going to his eyelids where he had, in fact, impulsively used a dash of eyeliner. He didn't think he had used enough of it to be especially noticeable, but if Nagi, of all people, is perceptive enough to spot it, he might have overdone it.

"Ah, yeah... is it too much?"

Nagi shakes his head. "No. It's pretty."

Reo lets his hand drop after a beat. “That’s…” He trails off. A blink later, he grins at Nagi. “That’s good to know.” He turns back to the mirror where he had been carefully sliding a clip to pin back one side of his bangs behind his ear. Once satisfied, he glances at Nagi again. “Did you need something from here?”

“No,” Nagi hums. “I just wanted to know why you were taking so long.”

“Have to make a good impression as your date, right?” Reo responds with a grin. “Anyway, I’m all but finished. Just need a few more minutes.” He squints more carefully at Nagi’s own outfit. “You’re one to talk, by the way, you’re not even dressed.”

“I’ll put it on before we leave.”

Reo narrows his eyes. “That’s it?” His eyes trail up to Nagi’s not-so-artful mess of hair. “You’re not doing anything to your hair?”

Nagi blinks, long and slow. “Do I have to?”

Reo sighs, half expecting the response and half disappointed anyway. “Come here,” he says, and when Nagi does just that, Reo reaches up to fix a few of his flyaway strands. Then, on an impulse, he tries pushing one side of Nagi’s bangs up and back. He takes a step back to get a better look at it, then raises his eyebrows. “Not bad,” he murmurs mostly to himself. Louder, he continues, “alright, now get dressed.”

Nagi looks mildly disgruntled at the simple task, but eventually retreats from Reo’s bathroom. Reo leaves himself just a few minutes later, satisfied with his own appearance. He’s donning just a plain black turtleneck with a light grey coat over it—a relatively boring outfit for Reo’s own tastes, but probably the safest choice for the time being. Reo’s in the living room, tying his hair back in a low ponytail, by the time Nagi returns.

“Nagi,” Reo sighs when he sees the other. “You messed up your hair again.”

“Oops,” is Nagi’s bland response. Reo sighs again before approaching to rake his hands through Nagi’s hair in a similar fashion as before. He takes a step back, squinting at Nagi from head to toe before stepping forward again and reaching for Nagi’s collar, only for Nagi to skitter away.

“What,” Reo says with a raised eyebrow, “you’re ticklish?” Nagi simply wrinkles his nose in response. “Stay still, I just want to see…” He trails off, focusing on the top button of Nagi’s shirt, which they had bought the very morning. Actually, the fact that Nagi didn’t even have a simple white shirt was rather concerning for Reo—did Nagi seriously only wear hoodies to work?—but for now, Reo focuses on the task at hand. He unbuttons the top button, then fiddles a bit with Nagi’s collar. When he looks up, he finds Nagi staring at him intently.

“Good,” Reo says, stepping backwards for a comprehensive look and deeming his work satisfactory. He flashes a grin at Nagi. “You look good!”

Nagi continues staring at him unblinkingly for a few moments, then turns away with a cough.

“We’re… we’re going to be late,” he mutters into his hand. Reo glances at a nearby clock to find it reading 7:11 P.M., and he tilts his head to the side.

“Doesn’t it start at 8:30?”

“...7:30, I think.”

Reo’s mouth drops open. “That is not what you told me earlier, you—” He shakes his head. “No time. Come on, come on, let’s go!”

Nagi lets Reo shuffle him into the car waiting outside for them, and after Reo gives their driver the address of Nagi’s office, he settles back into his seat.

“You told me 8:30,” he complains, reaching out to shift Nagi’s collar again. “How’d you get it a whole hour off?”

“I got distracted, I guess,” is Nagi’s murmured response.

Reo hums, then finally lets his hand drop. “You’ve been distracted a lot recently, actually.” He squints at Nagi in the dark interior of the car. “You’d… tell me if there was something wrong, right?” Nagi’s resulting silence makes Reo’s skin prickle. “Like… if I was ever too much,” Reo continues slowly, “with this whole fake dating business—if I ever made you uncomfortable. You’d tell me, right?”

“Reo won’t make me uncomfortable,” Nagi finally responds, and while Reo appreciates the sentiment, it still feels like a non-answer. He squints at Nagi some more, but with little to no light illuminating his expression, Reo can’t parse out if there’s anything left unsaid. He settles back into his seat with a sigh, and they’re both silent for the rest of the ride. Not necessarily a stifling silence, not necessarily a comfortable silence, but maybe something in between.

It’s around 7:45 P.M. that the two finally arrive at their location—a street a few meters away from Nagi’s office. As Reo quickly bustles out of the car, it’s after only a few steps that he has to look back for Nagi, slowly dragging his feet behind him. With a huff that condenses into a cloud in the cold air around them, Reo links his arm through Nagi’s and begins pulling him forward. Nagi picks up the pace enough that Reo isn’t literally carrying him as dead weight, and so it’s only a few minutes later that they make it to the door, after which Reo turns to Nagi expectantly.

“Lead the way,” he offers, and Nagi does little to hide his slight grimace at the task. Still, he pulls out his ID to swipe it against the reader at the door, and when the cheerful beep sounds, he pushes the door open to let them in. The warmth inside immediately settles against Reo’s skin, and he lets out a pleased sigh.

Nagi makes a beeline for the elevator, giving Reo little time to take in his surroundings. As they wait for the elevator to arrive, Reo glances around anyway, drinking in what he can. It’s certainly more sophisticated than Reo had predicted—maybe it was the way Nagi talked about his job, but Reo hadn’t expected such a sleek, polished look to the place. Again, Reo wonders if Nagi’s seriously been coming to such a place in loose hoodies and sweatpants. He turns to Nagi to prod him about it, and maybe offer something from his own closet to supplement Nagi’s apparently non-existent wardrobe, but before he can open his mouth, the elevator arrives, and Nagi quickly tugs Reo inside. The elevator ride is short, and before Reo knows it, Nagi’s tugging him out of the elevator, turning the corner, and finally letting his hand drop from Reo’s sleeve.

“We’re here,” is his bland, clearly unenthusiastic declaration to Reo, entirely at odds with the scene in front of them. From Nagi’s descriptions, Reo had expected his fellow coworkers to be loud, annoying bastards who were constantly shouting at each other. But as Reo surveys the people amicably chatting with each other in front of him with wide eyes, the only part of Nagi’s description that rings true here is the volume—loud, vibrant joy echoes from the walls. Reo turns to Nagi.

“You work… here? These are your coworkers?”

Nagi scratches his ear. “Yeah.”

Reo squints at him. “These are your coworkers?”

“...yeah?”

Reo has half a mind to shake Nagi vigorously—how could he so horribly mischaracterize the people he worked with so frequently?—but before he can give in to his urges, he hears someone call Nagi’s name from a bit further away in the room. They both turn in the direction of the voice, finding a man waving to them. He’s rather non-descript in appearance, but the person next to him—decked in eye-catching neon fabrics—is anything but, and is also waving to them quite eagerly. When Reo glances at Nagi, he’s got a wrinkle in his nose. Then, it was definitely a coworker Nagi recognized, even if it was one Nagi didn’t entirely fancy. Reo’s getting the feeling that Nagi’s doesn’t particularly like anyone here, actually, but he hooks his arm through Nagi’s again and pulls him towards the duo in spite of the muttered grumble from his partner for the night. On the way over, Reo snags a filled champagne glass for himself.

Just when they reach the other pair, though, Nagi’s name is called yet again, this time from the other end of the room in a much more snappish tone. Reo glances at Nagi, hiding his amused smile with a sip from his glass.

“Popular tonight, huh?”

Nagi looks like he’d rather be anything but. Reo watches as he glances around the room for the source, then watches as his expression sours.

“It’s Ego,” he mutters to Reo. “Sorry, he’ll probably fire me if I don’t go.”

“It’s alright,” Reo says magnanimously, closing his eyes to take another sip, “I’ll just converse here with…” He trails off. He opens his eyes, but Nagi’s already slipped away. He sighs, mostly unsurprised, before turning to the pair who he still knows nothing about, now watching him curiously. He flashes a polite smile. “I’m… sorry. I have no idea who anyone here is,” he admits candidly.

“Oh, no worries,” the one who had called Nagi’s name says amicably. “I’m Isagi. I work in the software development area with Nagi.”

“Isagi,” Reo repeats slowly, before nodding, “Isagi, yes, I’ve heard a lot about you!” Heard a lot of complaining about you, was probably more accurate, but Reo keeps that part to himself. He turns to the man next to Isagi. “And you are…?”

“Bachira,” he offers cheerily, but as Reo turns the name over in his mind, he finds that he can’t recollect it at all—odd, given his obviously colorful nature, in appearance and otherwise. “I’m Yoichi’s partner!”

“Oh,” Reo says after a moment of trying to remember who Yoichi could be. “Right, yeah. Me too.”

Bachira tilts his head to the side. “You’re also his partner?” He turns to blink at Isagi with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh, no,” Reo hurries to clarify. “No, I’m Na—” He breaks himself off with a cough. It wasn’t Nagi here, was it? “I’m Seishiro’s partner.”

“Oh,” Bachira says, almost sounding a bit disappointed before his eyes widen. “Oh! You must be Reo!”

Reo blinks. “Ah… yeah.” He blinks again. “You know me?”

Isagi poorly hides a laugh as a cough. “Everyone here knows you, I think.”

“Oh,” Reo says, somewhat bewildered. Before Isagi has a chance to explain, though, Nagi returns with a sullen look on his face. Reo puts what he hopes is a comforting hand on his arm. “What’d Ego want with you?”

“Speech,” Nagi mutters, obviously disgruntled. “He wants me to give a speech.”

“A speech, really?” Reo asks, somewhat surprised himself. “Why you?”

When Nagi continues a petulant silence, it’s Isagi that pipes up. “Reo, you didn’t know?” he says. “Nagi’s work is the main reason we hit this milestone early at all.”

Reo’s eyes widen, even as Nagi continues to avoid his gaze. “You’re kidding,” he says slowly, before squeezing Nagi’s arm. “N—Seishiro, that’s amazing!”

That makes Nagi meet his eyes. Right, Reo probably should have told him he was planning on using his first name in front of others. For now, Reo can only meet Nagi’s wide eyes with a helpless smile. A few blinks later, Nagi snaps out of his apparent stupor.

“Yeah, it’s…” He coughs. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Really,” Reo insists. “That’s incredible.” Nagi avoids meeting his gaze, but Reo thinks, if he squints, he can almost see the beginnings of a blush on his cheeks. It’s terribly endearing, and Reo feels a strange tug in his stomach at the thought. “What do you have to say in your speech?”

Nagi opens his mouth to answer, but before he can say anything, a slight clinking noise sounds across the room. The chatter around goes silent, and people shift to reveal the lanky man from before tapping somewhat aggressively at his wine glass.

“And now,” he says, his voice a grating sneer, “a speech from our star player.”

There’s a smatter of polite applause. Nagi brings a hand to the back of his neck and sighs, but with a pointed look from Reo, he sifts his way through the crowd to the center next to Ego.

“Err, yeah,” Nagi starts after a pause that lasts much too long. “We’re here to, hm, celebrate the… early progress, or something. Um…” He trails off. Him and Ego stare at each other, apparently having some sort of heated mental conversation, until Nagi breaks off his gaze with a sigh. “I’ve been told to thank people for getting us here. So thanks,” he says with a lazy wave of his hand, “to everyone here, I guess, for working on, uh, stuff.”

Nagi’s hand goes back to his neck. His eyebrows furrow. When he looks back up, Reo is surprised to find him locking gazes with Reo. Nagi watches him for one moment, then another. Reo offers what he hopes is a supportive grin. Nagi keeps his eyes on Reo for a moment longer, before finally breaking away with a blink.

“And,” Nagi continues, his voice louder than before, “thanks to my boyfriend, Reo—for all his support, and for… being with me all this time.”

Reo’s somewhat surprised to be called out in such a speech, but what gives him even more pause is the way nearly every single person in the room swivels to look in his direction. He falters for just a second under the unexpected attention—

—but Reo is a Mikage, and Mikages are born for the spotlight.

So he easily slips on a bashful grin, pretending to be politely embarrassed by the attention. Normally, he would leave it at that, but maybe it’s the alcohol humming in his veins that gives him a little more impulsiveness than usual. With his eyes on Nagi, he brings his hand to his mouth and blows a kiss in his direction.

This time, there’s no subtlety about the way Nagi’s face blooms with color. Nagi quickly looks away, and Reo has to bite back a smile. He’d always thought Nagi to be stoic in the face of affection, so he’s quite amused by the way Nagi seems so quick to flush under Reo’s attention tonight. If Reo had a little less self-control, he might use that knowledge to his advantage—it was so rare to see Nagi flustered or embarrassed at all—but Reo figures it would be kinder to restrain himself.

Nagi continues his speech, if it could be called that at all, but a few people around them are still watching Reo curiously. That alone wouldn’t be novel—Reo was used to stares, after all—but the recognition in their gaze almost makes Reo fidget. He turns to Isagi and Bachira, careful to keep his expression pleasant.

“Ah, Isagi,” Reo says through his smile. “You said everyone here probably knows me, right?”

Isagi blinks. “Uh, yeah.”

“...how, exactly?”

Isagi scratches his cheek. “Well, pretty much anyone who’s spent any time around Nagi knows who you are.” When Reo stares at him, blank and uncomprehending, Isagi tries to clarify. “He talks about you, like, all the time.”

Reo narrows his eyes. “Really?”

“So much that Yoichi complains to me about it,” Bachira chirps. “That’s how I know who you are!”

Isagi quickly grows panicked. “I—no, I mean I don’t—I don’t complain, haha, Meguru, that’s not—I wouldn’t—err—”

“It’s fine,” Reo dismisses. “He really talks about me that much?” He shakes his head, still confused. “Why?”

Isagi blinks. “You’re… his boyfriend, right?”

“Of course,” Reo blurts out.

Isagi shrugs. “I guess he just really loves you, then.”

Reo’s eye twitches. “Ha,” he forces out, “but really.” He pauses. “I mean… what does he say about me?”

“He mostly talks about how much he misses you when he’s here,” Isagi says. “And complains that you would treat him better than anyone else here.”

“Oh,” Reo says, almost relieved at the explanation. Obviously, it was just a side effect of Nagi’s constant desire to be pampered. “Right, but just now…” He trails off. “Just now, Na—Seishiro just mentioned me by name, and everyone turned to look at me.” He presses a finger to his own chest. “How do they know what I look like?”

“You’re his wallpaper…?”

Reo stares at Isagi. “What?”

“His phone wallpaper,” Isagi says. Reo continues staring at him blankly. “It’s a picture of you.”

“Me?”

“Did you… not know?”

Reo’s mouth opens, then closes. He did not, in fact, know that Nagi had him as his phone wallpaper. Actually, Reo’s current wallpaper was of Nagi—the candid picture he’d snapped of him with the heart-shaped straw at their café visit just that morning—which he had changed just in case any of Nagi’s coworkers had asked for his phone to add validity to their charade. He had considered telling Nagi to change his phone wallpaper accordingly too, but decided against it, predicting Nagi’s typical complaint of it being a pain. He hadn’t at all thought Nagi would think to do it on his own—

—but if all of Nagi’s coworkers knew what Reo looked like already, didn’t that mean Reo was Nagi’s wallpaper before today? Before they had even agreed to begin faking?

Reo’s eyebrows furrow. He’s missing something, he’s sure of it.

“I have to admit,” Isagi continues, completely oblivious to Reo’s inner turmoil, “a few of us definitely thought you were too good to be true.” He laughs. “I mean, Nagi talked about you so much, but none of us had ever seen you before, and, well—” He shrugs good-naturedly. “I heard a few people wondering if you even existed.”

“...why wouldn’t they think I existed?”

“Because it’s… Nagi,” Isagi says with a light laugh. “He seems like the last guy who’d have such a perfect boyfriend.”

There are a few things Reo would like to unpack about that statement, but he’s too distracted by his sudden revelation to question Isagi about it. Suddenly, all the pieces from the events of the days before click into place—Nagi’s weird aversion to everyone Reo tried to set him up with, his insistence about it being Reo and Reo alone, and the wallpaper—

Nagi’s coworkers already had the misconception that they were dating—if Nagi showed up with someone other than Reo, it would have been suspicious. Nagi must have changed his wallpaper after coming to that realization on his own, all to lay the foundation, so that when Reo came to this party, it wouldn’t be out of left field that they actually were together. It’s a sort of foresight uncharacteristic of Nagi, so this must have been an especially persistent problem.

Reo finds his shoulders unconsciously relaxing after sorting out the events in his mind. The entire evening, or maybe even the entire day, Reo has had a certain itch under his skin—not grating, not uncomfortable, just present. Now, he thinks he can attribute that feeling to the dissonance of his understanding of Nagi’s actions. His one-minded determination that Reo—not anyone else, just Reo—had to be his date for the event seemed at odds with his typical apathetic countenance, but Reo knows that for all Nagi might grumble about his coworkers, there exists a sort of mutual, begrudging respect. Reo can understand, even if he thinks it a bit odd, that recruiting his assistance to verify an incorrect assumption might be more appealing than correcting such a widespread bit of misinformation. That, coupled with the fact that a date was required for this party at all, finally makes Reo understand Nagi’s primary goal.

 “I assure you,” Reo finally responds to Isagi, “I am… quite real.”

There’s more he’d like to say—like question what about Nagi exactly makes Isagi think Nagi couldn’t get a date—but Reo figures he should at least try not to get into any verbal arguments with Nagi’s coworkers at their first meeting. Defending Nagi’s honor, Reo decides, can wait for another day. He tunes back into Nagi’s speech, which appears to be reaching its slapdash conclusion.

“...keep up the good work,” Nagi’s saying, “I guess.” He looks around. “That’s it.”

The applause that sounds after Nagi’s speech is only marginally more enthusiastic than the applause prior, but Reo can’t really fault them for that. Still, he gives Nagi a big grin as he approaches, and when Nagi’s close enough, Reo feels bold enough to throw his arms around Nagi’s neck and plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

“We’ll work on your speech skills,” Reo murmurs close to Nagi’s ear, before pulling back with a grin. “Great job, Seishiro!”

Once again, Reo is privy to Nagi’s flustered expression—it’s subtle, seen only in the light flush of his cheeks and his slightly wider than usual eyes, but Reo knows Nagi well enough to spot the signs from a mile away. Reo continues watching, amused, as Nagi brings a hand to hover above the skin of his cheek, then lets it drop after a single lingering moment. Reo, for a lingering moment of his own, somewhat regrets that he won’t be able to induce such an expression from Nagi again after this night.

“It was nice to meet you, Isagi, Bachira,” Reo says with a polite nod to each of them. “Sorry, I think Nagi and I have to mingle with some others…” As he trails off, he sends a pointed smile to Isagi. “Have to prove I’m real, right?”

“Ah—uh, I don’t—”

“Bye,” Reo interrupts Isagi’s spluttering sweetly, and then he leads himself and Nagi smoothly away from the now-bewildered pair. As soon as Reo deems them out of earshot, he turns to Nagi. “I don’t like Isagi,” he says flatly.

“Me neither,” Nagi agrees, and that’s that.

As they wander mindlessly together through the crowd, Reo finishes the glass in his hand and manages to snatch up a refill as they pass the drinks table. It’s not the especially high quality wine that Reo is used to, but there is something surprisingly alluring about its stronger bite. Nagi, Reo notices after a while, hasn’t had a drink at all. He turns to offer his own, but before he can, he’s interrupted by a new voice.

“So it takes your boyfriend showing up to get dressed, huh?” Reo turns to face the source and finds a man taller than him, his arms crossed, and his eyes narrowed at the both of them. After a moment of suspended silence, the man sniffs. “First time I’ve seen you in anything but a hoodie.”

Nagi seems entirely unruffled by the man’s harsh tone, so Reo assumes this, too, is another coworker that Nagi’s familiar with. “This is Barou,” Nagi offers unenthusiastically, confirming Reo’s suspicions.

“It’s… nice to meet you,” Reo says slowly, calculating if Barou would be receptive to a handshake and deciding against it. “I’m Reo, I’m Seishiro’s b—”

“Boyfriend, I know,” Barou interrupts harshly. “We all know.”

Reo’s smile twitches. Barou’s words, though, remind him of something, and so he turns to Nagi with wide eyes. “By the way, Seishiro, can I see your phone?”

Nagi blinks. “Why?”

“Just want to check the time,” is Reo’s innocent excuse. When Nagi stares at him unblinkingly, Reo decides to supplement it with a quick lie. “My phone died.”

Something in Nagi’s eyes flickers, but after another beat, he pulls out his phone and hands it to Reo. Reo feels oddly tense as he taps at the screen, largely because he doesn’t know what to expect. The odds were rather high that Nagi would use just any old photo of Reo to make a point, and Reo thinks even he would be a bit embarrassed to know that an unflattering image was how every one of Nagi’s coworkers knew him prior to tonight. When the screen lights up, Reo’s eyes widen.

It’s… not an unflattering image at all, actually. In fact, the angle, the lighting, the expression—it’s very clearly a candid shot of Reo, mid-laughter—all come together so perfectly that Reo, for a moment, is struck speechless. He doesn’t remember ever seeing the picture before, and he can’t even remember when Nagi could have taken such a picture at all.

“I’ve seen that picture more than I’ve seen my mother,” Barou mutters under his breath, and it shatters Reo’s focus on the picture. With a light laugh, he hands the phone back to Nagi.

“Ah… well, enough about me,” Reo says good-naturedly. “Who’s your date for the night?”

Barou stares at him. “Huh?” he asks loudly.

Reo blinks. “Your… date? For the event?”

Barou’s eyebrows furrow. “I don’t have one.”

“Oh,” Reo says, slightly lost. He turns to Nagi with a confused smile. “Seishiro? Didn’t you—”

“We should go,” Nagi interrupts.

“We’ve only been here for… half an hour, if that,” Reo points out slowly.

“Yeah, but,” Nagi looks away, “we have that, hm, dinner reservation. Right?”

Reo squints at Nagi. Nagi continues refusing to meet his eyes. It’s strange, but if Nagi doesn’t want to be here any longer, Reo has no reason to, either. “Right,” he agrees eventually with a squeeze of Nagi’s arm. “How could I forget?” He turns back to Barou to offer a farewell, but he’s already disappeared back into the crowd. It’s probably for the best.

So Reo allows himself to get tugged away by Nagi, back to the elevators they had entered from. Reo peers around them to make sure no one around is eavesdropping, then turns to Nagi again.

“Didn’t you say you needed a date to attend this?”

“Yeah,” Nagi says, tapping his foot against the ground. “Barou’s single, though, and everyone’s too scared of him to kick him out.”

“Oh,” Reo says. “That’s… huh.”

Before he can ponder the reasonability of that any longer, the elevator doors open with a chime, and Nagi pulls the both of them inside. As soon as the doors close again, Nagi slumps against Reo. Reo, long accustomed to bearing Nagi’s body weight, simply huffs out a quiet laugh.

“Tired already?”

Nagi hums.

“We’ll be home in a bit.”

The doors open at the ground level, and Nagi peels himself off of Reo long enough to make it outside and into their waiting ride. Once inside the car, Nagi promptly sidles next to Reo again, resting his head against Reo’s shoulder. Reo fights back a yawn of his own as he cards a hand through Nagi’s hair absent-mindedly, but there’s still one question at the tip of his tongue.

“Hey, Nagi,” he says quietly. “You know that picture on your phone?” Nagi makes a noise of acknowledgment. “Where’s that from?”

“A few weeks ago,” is Nagi’s mumbled response. “In Shibuya.”

Reo can recollect the outing Nagi’s referencing, but he still feels like he’s missing something. “Right,” he says. “Ah… why’d you take it, though?” Nagi mutters something faint, too faint for Reo to make out. He nudges Nagi upright a little. “What?”

“Pretty,” Nagi murmurs. “Reo looked pretty.”

“Huh,” Reo says.

Nagi mumbles something else, too, but again, it’s too quiet for Reo to make out. Reo’s nails dig into the skin of his palm.

“Okay,” Reo says. “You can… you can change it back to whatever it was before, now, though. Since we’re done with… you know.” Reo taps a finger against his thigh. When all he receives for a response is silence, he coughs. “Nagi?”

When Reo works up the nerve to glance at him again, he finds Nagi fast asleep against his shoulder. Reo sighs, mostly unsurprised, before shifting to better support Nagi’s weight.

“You,” he murmurs into the quiet space between, “are going to be the death of me. Aren’t you, Seishiro?”

Reo receives only Nagi’s soft, even breathing as a response. Reo sighs, closes his eyes, and lets the sound transport him to his own dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Nagi. You want to go on a date?”

“Okay.”

“…what?”

“What?”

“I need a… date,” Reo says slowly, “for an event.” He coughs out an awkward laugh. “You think you can fake it with me again for a bit?”

“Oh,” Nagi says with a blank expression. “Okay.”

Maybe Reo shouldn’t be surprised by Nagi’s answer, given his recent agreeableness, but it’s still only after a pause that Reo clarifies.

“It’s for this business retreat my parents are hosting. With every passing year, they just ask more and more often about if I’m seeing anyone, so…” He trails off. “I thought… just since we did it once before…” He hesitates. “Just to get them off my back about it this once, you know?”

Nagi hums. “Okay,” he says again. “When is it?”

“Err… tomorrow.”

Nagi’s eyebrows raise slightly. “Ahh,” he hums, “then, Reo can’t blame me for last week.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Reo concedes. “It’s hypocritical of me. I didn’t mean to, though, it’s just that the idea only came to me today.”

That, of course, is a bold and blatant lie.

The idea, in fact, had struck him almost immediately when he’d opened his mail a few days ago to see the event invitation sitting like a quietly ticking bomb in his digital inbox. His mother’s phone call, less than a minute after he’d opened the email, had only reinforced what type of bombardment he’d be assaulted by if he were to go to the event alone. He had been so frustrated by the exchange, actually, that as his mother continued listing off potential partners, Reo had blurted out that he already had one. His mother had been silent for a moment, then two, before cautiously agreeing and ending the call. Naturally, his mind had wandered to solutions, and naturally, his mind had wandered to Nagi—

—but in the days that followed, Reo had grappled with the thought, pushed and pulled at it like the tides of the ocean. Nagi was an option, yes, but Reo was starting to come to the slightly distressing conclusion that he was maybe too appealing an option.

See, in the days after their night out, Reo had expected them to seamlessly return to their original dynamic. Nagi, for his part, seemed to do so without much friction, but Reo was surprised to notice of himself the way his touches lingered a little longer and the instinct to call Nagi a name that doesn’t belong to Reo. They’re symptoms almost reminiscent of withdrawal, and Reo is admittedly a bit shaken that a singular event of just a few hours of playing pretend was enough to cause such a reaction. It’s as if Reo has gotten the taste of something forbidden, something just tantalizing enough to make him restless for more.

He’s rationalized it under the umbrella of method acting—it happens to the best of actors, and maybe Reo, like them, simply got a bit too involved in his role, temporary as it was—but even that isn’t entirely enough on its own to quell the itch under his skin. So proposing that they begin this charade again, this time for Reo’s benefit, is ideal in theory, but in practice, Reo isn’t sure if it wouldn’t have been better if he had just offered some money to Chigiri to spare himself the unintended side effects.

It’s too late for regrets, now, though. He’s already blurted out the question, and Nagi, for better or for worse, has already agreed.

“It’s… going to be for a few days,” Reo continues carefully when it seems like Nagi’s going to stay silent. “Not just one evening. Is that… fine?”

Nagi half-shrugs. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Reo repeats weakly. “It’s not—it’s not too much of a hassle for you?”

Nagi half-shrugs again. Reo has no idea what to make of it.

“Alright. Then, we should probably start packing…”

It’s a short flight to Okinawa, but it’s made longer by the restless energy under Reo’s skin. Nagi probably would have slept through the entire thing, but Reo finds himself unable to stop himself from constantly turning to Nagi to discuss their situation. Reo will alternate between watching the darkening sky outside his window with furrowed eyebrows and turning to poke Nagi just as his head begins to loll to talk meaninglessly about the retreat. As Reo chatters mindlessly, he knows for sure Nagi isn’t listening to a thing he says and is probably somewhat bothered by Reo’s inability to leave him alone, but with no other outlet for his anxiety, Reo carries on.

It’s dusk by the time their flight lands, and now they’re both fighting back yawns. Reo somewhat regrets that he couldn’t quell his own jitters for long enough to let them both get some shut-eye, but he’d researched their hotel prior to their visit, and he has good faith in the quality of their beds.

Reo’s telling as much to Nagi as they find their suitcases and head outside, even as Nagi’s eyelids continue to droop. They flag down a taxi, and Reo gives their driver the address of their hotel.

“One more thing,” Reo says during the drive, essentially interrupting his own brainless tangent. He pokes Nagi on the shoulder to make him sit straighter. “Actually listen, now.”

“I have been,” Nagi mumbles. Reo rolls his eyes.

“Sure,” he says dryly. He pauses. He shifts a little straighter in his seat. “Just… one more thing about this…” He glances at the front, where their driver seems to be entirely tuned-out of their conversation. Just to be safe, Reo decides to try and stick to vague terms, anyway. “Arrangement,” he gets out with a cough and pointed look at Nagi. “This is a bit different than last time, I mean… this is a business retreat. So…” He waves a hand vaguely in the air. “You know what I mean?”

“...no.”

“Come on,” Reo huffs. When Nagi’s stare remains frustratingly blank, Reo drops his voice to a whisper. “I mean, we don’t have to be so… touchy. Like last time.” He looks away. “It’s probably not, uh…” He trails off. He squints. “Professional?”

This time, Reo’s only half-lying. It probably would raise eyebrows if any couple, not just them, were especially affectionate during such an event, and as the heir to the business, Reo and any potential partner would only be under further scrutiny. That, and the fact that Reo doesn’t especially think he can handle four consecutive days of Nagi being doting or touchy. It’s a matter of self-preservation, Reo tells himself, to save face in front of others and maybe also himself.

Nagi’s still staring at him. Reo coughs.

“So… all you really have to do,” Reo continues quietly, “is tell people we’re dating. We don’t… really even have to act like it.” Reo gives Nagi a weak grin. “That should be easier for you anyway, right?”

Nagi hums, then glances away. Reo’s grin slips.

In a stroke of perfect timing, their car comes to a stop. As expected, Reo finds a lavish hotel waiting for them when they step out, and he nods appreciatively when he enters the lobby with Nagi close behind. The Mikage corporation isn’t one to shy away from pulling out all the stops, but this was a global business retreat, and so even for the Mikage standard, it’s a bit more ostentatious than normal.

“It’s big,” is Nagi’s simple remark. Reo grins, this one untainted by the awkwardness from before, then flashes their room cards.

“Wait until you see our room,” Reo says excitedly, pulling him along. “I saw the pictures, it’s huge, and it’s right by the beach, and I think it’s complimentary service, actually, and—” Reo reaches their room, fiddles with the key card for a bit, then throws the door open. “And—”

—and, there was only one bed.

Reo stops in his tracks. Nagi, a few steps behind, does the same.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, and Reo is too busy blinking stupidly at the singular bed in the middle of their room to respond. Nagi cranes his neck to peer over Reo’s shoulder. “Reo?”

“There’s…” Reo starts when he finds his voice again. “There’s, uh, only one bed.”

“Oh,” Nagi says, and then they both fall silent again.

It’s a few moments later that Reo snaps out of his stupor. “This must be a mistake,” he says, shaking his head. “That’s—there must have been some sort of mix-up—” Reo clicks his tongue. “It’s alright. I can talk to someone and get us another room, or—or maybe a separate room just for one of us, or—”

“Reo,” Nagi interrupts. “Isn’t it fine?”

Reo, for the second time that day, freezes. “What?”

Nagi yawns, shuffling past Reo to fall backwards onto the bed. “Isn’t it fine?” he asks again, his words half muffled by the mattress.

Reo’s hand twitches. “What,” he says with a laugh. “Fine to… share, or something?”

“Mhm,” Nagi hums into a pillow.

Something like alarm bells are ringing in Reo’s head. He ignores them. “You… really?”

Nagi mumbles something unintelligible. Reo tugs at his sleeve.

“You won’t be… uncomfortable?”

Nagi doesn’t respond. Reo waits for one moment, then another, then another, before realizing Nagi is already fast asleep. Reo stares at his body, still except for the even rise and fall of his chest, for a few more moments, before putting his face in his hands and exhaling loudly.

“Okay,” he mutters into his own hands, “okay, okay.”

Nagi apparently had no problem with their sleeping arrangement. If Reo now insisted on getting a separate room, wouldn’t it seem like Reo was being overly conscious? Then again, with Nagi all but passed out, it wouldn’t take much for Reo to slip back out to the lobby and ask for accommodations of his own. After all, hadn’t he just told Nagi that they wouldn’t need to be physically affectionate during this trip?

But anyway, the bed, while singular in nature, was also relatively spacious. Nagi was currently face-planted in the center of it, but if Reo nudged him over to one side, set up a column of pillows in the middle, and took the remaining space for himself, they would run little risk of bumping into each other in the night. It would be, for all intents and purposes, a win-win.

…also, Reo is suddenly very, very tired.

With one final glance at the bed and Nagi’s sleeping form, Reo leans back for a yawn and starts to get ready for bed.

When Reo wakes up the next morning, he realizes two things: one, there is a creature currently trying to strangle him with its limbs, and two, his carefully constructed divider of pillows has been catapulted to the floor.

His third realization comes after Reo blearily blinks to clear his vision. The creature wrapped around Reo isn’t a creature at all, but actually, Nagi.

As soon as realization sinks into Reo’s skin, so too does the sensation of Nagi tangled around Reo. His arm is looped over Reo’s neck, his leg is all but covering Reo’s entire torso, one of Reo’s arms is somehow under Nagi, and the other one rests on Nagi’s waist. As soon as Reo notices, he makes to flinch away, but before he can, his gaze catches on to Nagi’s face, inches away from his own. There’s a fragile stillness to his peaceful expression, and before Reo’s realized it, his own hand has lifted to be moments away from the skin of Nagi’s cheek. He lets it hover for one precarious second, then pulls back.

Or, at least, tries to. He doesn’t make it very far out of the embrace before Nagi’s limbs lock, effectively trapping Reo in place. Reo freezes for a second, thinking he’s been caught, but when he dares to peer at Nagi’s face, he finds him still fast asleep. It must have been an unconscious response, then.

“Nagi,” Reo murmurs, tapping lightly at the arm that holds him in place. “Nagi, wake up.”

Nagi mumbles something. Reo taps a little faster.

“I need to get up, Nagi.”

With a wrinkle of his nose, Nagi cracks open a single eye.

“Good morning,” Reo says fondly. “Can you let me up, now?”

Nagi blinks slowly, drowsiness leaving his eyes with each blink. “Ah,” he says after a few moments, apparently finally realizing their position. Reo expects surprise, disgust, or embarrassment to accompany the flicker of realization in his gaze, but even from so close to his eyes, Reo can spot no such thing. Reo guesses Nagi has a better poker face than he’s previously let on.

“Can you… let go?” Reo asks again when Nagi makes no indication to move.

“Hm,” Nagi hums. “Oh, yeah.”

Finally, Nagi’s limbs retreat, and Reo quickly sits up, running a hand through his hair. He scans the rest of the room, eyebrows raising when he finds a pillow halfway across the room.

“You… move around a lot in your sleep, huh?”

“I guess so,” is Nagi’s sleepy response.

Reo bites the inside of his cheek. “You’re… sure you don’t want another room?”

Nagi lifts his head to blink up at him. “Does Reo want another room?”

“No, I’m—I’m fine,” Reo quickly clarifies. “It just seems like you, uh… might need some more space while you sleep.”

Nagi lets his head fall back to his pillow. “No,” he murmurs. “I’m fine.”

Reo watches him for a moment longer. “Right,” he says. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Reo exhales softly. “Okay, then.” He shuffles out of bed, heading for the attached bathroom. “It might be boring for you in the morning,” he calls out. “I have a few meetings before lunch, but you won’t be able to attend. You’re fine hanging out here on your own until lunch, right?” When silence is his only response, he sticks his head out of the bathroom. “Nagi?”

“Okay,” Nagi hums, already sitting upright and tapping rapidly at his phone. Reo huffs out an amused breath at the familiar sight.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” is Reo’s parting farewell after he finishes getting ready in the next few minutes. He raises a single eyebrow when he finds Nagi, unmoved from his previous position, still tapping at his phone. “Try to at least… get out of bed by the time I come back, huh?”

Nagi wrinkles his nose. Reo unsuccessfully stifles a grin, waves goodbye, and heads for the door.

The meetings end up being about as boring as Reo expected. It’s all material he knows like the back of his hand, anyway, so the only real challenge comes from having to present in a language different from his mother tongue. Still, Reo’s fairly fluent in English, so it still ends up as a dull way to spend the first morning of his retreat. When Reo makes it back to their hotel room, Nagi’s still in bed and tapping at his phone, but he’s sitting a little straighter and in different clothes, so Reo assumes Nagi had eventually begrudgingly gotten up while he was gone.

“How were the meetings?” Nagi asks without looking up from his phone as Reo quickly redoes his ponytail.

“Boring,” Reo answers truthfully. “I don’t even know why they call this a retreat, there’s so many presentations lined up for the rest of the week…” He trails off with a sigh. “Part of the job description, I guess.”

Nagi hums. “You’re so cool, Reo.”

Reo laughs. “You don’t have to compliment me, we’re not in front of anyone.” Once satisfied with his hair, he goes to tug Nagi out of bed. “Come on, it’s time to go out for lunch.”

Nagi’s lips pull down in a pout, even as he lets himself get dragged out of his previous position. “Can’t we just get room service?”

“What, you don’t want a Mikage-sponsored meal?” he teases, then pauses to consider his words. “Although… I guess all of your meals are kind of Mikage-sponsored.” Reo frowns. “You should really go grocery shopping sometimes, Nagi. I’m always the one restocking our fridge.”

Nagi blinks at him. “You never like the food I bring back.”

“Because you only ever bring fruit jelly packs!” Reo shakes his head. “Anyway, no room service today. If I’m remembering correctly…” Reo trails off in thought. “I think we’re getting Italian?”

“Huh,” Nagi says. “Okay.”

The restaurant is smaller than Reo anticipates, but it’s got a comfortable feel that instantly settles into his skin. There are a few large tables by the bar evidently set up for their party, and Reo quickly ushers Nagi into a seat at the table closest to the bar before everyone else begins filling in.

“Save my spot,” Reo murmurs to Nagi with a pat of his shoulder. Nagi pulls out his phone as soon as Reo steps away to head for the bar.

At the bar, there’s only a single bartender—in a chef’s coat, of all things, which confuses Reo as to his actual profession—which seems like a lack of foresight. Surely the restaurant knew the crowd that was already beginning to trickle their way in?

Aside from the incredibly muscled man with the green hair, the only other individual at the bar was seated on the other side, evidently having a riveting conversation (or argument?) with the bartender. Reo notices him, not only because of his enthusiastic (or frustrated?) gesturing as he speaks, but also the odd, cherry blossom-pink of his hair. Maybe it was an Okinawa thing.

Reo has to clear his throat a few times to get the bartender-slash-chef’s attention. “Sorry to interrupt,” he says dryly when both their gazes swivel his way. “But could I get a glass of rosé champagne?”

Surprise melts into a perfect customer service grin. It’s more genuine than the ones Reo sees on a daily basis—he’s almost impressed.

“Coming right up,” the chef-slash-bartender answers smoothly, as the man across from him huffs an unimpressed mutter into the drink he’s already holding. He slides over Reo’s requested drink in just a few moments, and Reo guesses its his efficiency that explains his solitary position at the bar for the event.

“Thanks,” Reo says with a nod, before heading back to his table. His seat is still empty, and he mentally pats himself on the back for having the foresight to reserve his and Nagi’s seats early. In the few moments it took for Reo to get his drink, the tables all around him are full. Reo catches snippets of corporate talk from one of the tables he passes and resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, even during lunch, most of these people were only interested in talking about one thing.

At his own table, it’s mostly unfamiliar faces talking in unfamiliar languages—foreigners, then. Reo is almost grateful as he slips into the empty seat next to Nagi.

“Did you take a look at the menu?”

“Ehh,” is Nagi’s noncommittal response. “I’ll just get what you get.”

“You always say that,” Reo complains mildly. “Are you sure?”

“I like what Reo likes,” Nagi insists, and Reo sighs. He opens his mouth to chide Nagi more, but a deliberate throat clearing from across the table interrupts him. It’s only when the person across from them sets down the menu they were holding incredibly close to their face that Reo realizes not everyone at the table is a complete stranger to him—

“Ah, hi, Zantetsu.”

“Hello, Reo,” Zantetsu greets with exaggerated gravitas. “It’s good to see you.”

Reo nods. “You too.” He turns to Nagi, who’s been watching the two converse silently. “This is Zantetsu, he works in the—”

“Finance department, right?” Nagi interrupts. Reo blinks.

“Yeah,” he confirms slowly. “How did you…?”

“You were talking about it on the flight.”

“...you were listening?”

“I told you I was.”

“Huh,” Reo says. He blinks again. “Well, yeah. He’s a part of the finance department.” Not because Zantetsu was particularly good with managing finances, actually—in fact, he was kind of atrocious with numbers, to the point where he’s officially banned from working with them at all. But for the strangest reason, Zantetsu is incredibly skilled with spreadsheets, more so than anyone else in the corporation. Reo’s seen him at work, and he honestly cannot understand how Zantetsu does what he does. In any case, he’s talented enough in his niche skill to keep his position, and he’s amicable enough in conversation to be one of the few coworkers that Reo can more than tolerate. “You usually don’t come to these retreats, though, do you?” he asks Zantetsu.

Zantetsu pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a finger. “Okinawa has nice weather,” he answers seriously.

“Fair enough,” Reo agrees. He starts to ask another question, but Zantetsu’s gaze slides to Nagi, and he interrupts Reo before he can speak again.

“Who are you?”

Reo takes the opportunity to place his hand on top of Nagi’s and flashes a beatific grin at Zantetsu. “This is N—Seishiro,” he catches himself quickly, “my boyfriend.”

Zantetsu blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Reo, I didn’t know you were heterochromic.”

Heterochromic? Reo sees Nagi mouth silently. Reo shakes his head slightly—there’s no point in correcting him.

“I’ve never heard you talk about your boyfriend before,” Zantetsu continues breezily. “When did you two start dating?”

“Four years and six months ago,” Nagi finally speaks up. Zantetsu’s eyebrows raise.

“But I’ve never heard—”

“You know how it is,” Reo interrupts with a sip from his wine glass. “I like keeping my personal and professional lives separate, you know?”

Zantetsu stares at him. “But you’ve talked to me about your roommate before,” he points out to Reo’s mounting horror, “and you keep telling me that you think you might be in—”

Reo interrupts him with a slightly off-pitch peal of laughter. “Yes!” he says with probably too much enthusiasm. Nagi gives him a concerned look that Reo stoutly ignores. “Seishiro is my roommate, too. So—that’s probably what you’re thinking about.”

 “Huh,” Zantetsu says. “Okay.”

Reo almost deflates in his seat out of relief. If he had known Zantetsu was such a blabbermouth, he would have never confided in him about his slightly revealing thoughts. Something to keep in mind for later, then.

“Then,” Zantetsu continues, and Reo stiffens in his chair again. “When are you both getting married?”

Reo is incredibly grateful he did not take a sip of wine the moment before, because a rather spectacular sort of spit take would have occurred. Instead, Reo chokes on air.

“Married?”

“Married,” Zantetsu repeats easily. He blinks at Reo. “Isn’t that what people do after dating for so long?”

Reo swallows with some difficulty. “Yes,” he says slowly as his mind races for the most diplomatic answer that would get them out of the situation, “but Seishiro and I, we want to take things, uh, kind of sl—”

“Soon,” Nagi interrupts before Reo can get the word out of his mouth. He flips his hand that rests under Reo’s, then links their fingers together for a squeeze. “We’re getting married soon.”

Reo gapes at him. Nagi refuses to meet his eyes. Zantetsu nods, apparently satisfied with Nagi’s answer.

“Send me a wedding integration, then.”

Reo lets out something like a breathy wheeze, then quickly takes a sip from his glass to distract from the noise. As soon as Zantetsu gets distracted by the menu again, he turns to Nagi with a breezy smile.

“Seishiro,” he says in a lilting murmur through grit teeth, “what was that about?”

“I thought it would be the most realistic answer,” Nagi murmurs back. “We have to be convincing, right?”

Unfortunately, Reo can’t really argue with that. He exhales softly and turns his own attention back to the menu.

The rest of the day passes without much fanfare. Lunch continues with less stressful conversations after the food arrives, and with no agenda for the evening after lunch, Reo takes the opportunity to tug Nagi around Okinawa for shopping. Usually it’s Reo that leaves their shopping expeditions with numerous bags in hand, but this time, Reo forces Nagi to expand his pitiful wardrobe. A few hours of changing rooms later, they make it back to their hotel room, satisfied but exhausted.

“Good night, Reo,” Nagi says as soon as they enter, flopping face-first onto the bed.

“Good night, Seishiro,” Reo responds fondly. As soon as his words register, his feet stall in the entryway of the bathroom. He’d gone the entire day calling Nagi by his first name, just in case they had run into someone else from the Mikage retreat in the middle of their shopping. So, it’s almost by fault of a habit that the name slips out now. “I mean, Nagi,” he corrects belatedly. There’s no response, and when he peers around the corner to check, he finds Nagi fast asleep on their bed. Reo kind of envies his ability to so quickly succumb to slumber.

After finishing his nightly routine, Reo hesitates before getting into bed. He could take the next few minutes to set up the arrangement as he had the night before, but if the morning was any indication, his work would all be for naught.

…and once again, Reo is very, very tired.

So he clambers straight into bed, letting the sound of Nagi’s slow, even breathing lull him into his own sleep.

Reo is less surprised when he wakes up the next day to find Nagi wrapped around him again, but it still gives him something like a crisis when he sees how close Nagi’s face is to his own.

As with the morning before, Reo lightly jostles the arm keeping him trapped. Nagi wakes up a little faster this time, blinking sleepily at Reo.

“Good morning, Nagi.”

“Good morning,” Nagi responds quietly. His eyes slip back closed. “Do you have to leave so early?”

If Reo didn’t know better, he’d say that Nagi enjoyed these lazy mornings with Reo. Because Reo knows better, he knows that Nagi just enjoys lazy mornings in general.

“Part of the job description,” is Reo’s amused response, and with a slight pout, Nagi pulls away to let Reo sit up and stretch. “There’s only a single meeting in the morning today,” he explains around a yawn. “There are no…” He waves a hand vaguely in the air. “...company secrets or anything this time, so you can come and watch, if you want.”

“Is Reo presenting?” Nagi mumbles into his pillow.

“Yeah, I’ve got a few things to go over,” Reo answers as he makes his way to the bathroom. “It’ll probably be boring for you, though. You can stay here instead, like yesterday…?”

“No,” Reo hears Nagi’s yawned response. “I’ll come.”

Reo’s eyebrows raise. “If you’re sure,” he says. “It starts in an hour or so, you think you can get ready by then?” His response is silence, and with a sigh, Reo pokes his head back out. “Nagi?”

Nagi has, once again, fallen right back to sleep. Reo should be annoyed, he thinks, but all he feels at the sight is a quiet wave of fondness, and with a shake of his head, he goes back to the bathroom.

Reo eventually does manage to force Nagi up, and although they cut it a bit close, they do make it to the meeting location on time. It’s a bit more extensive a meeting than the ones Reo had the day before, and the venue is suitably larger—at the center is a long table, a few scattered spots already filled, and Reo ushers Nagi towards two open seats near the head of the table.

This is also the first meeting where both of Reo’s parents are present. Reo feels a bit of tension in his shoulders when his mother sees them both enter the meeting hall—it’s not the first time she’s seeing them together, but it is the first time they’re all in such close proximity. But Reo’s mother has virtually no reaction at all, other than a slight nod acknowledging their presence. It confuses Reo slightly, but before he can think about it much longer, the meeting is called to order, and Reo is offered to begin his presentation.

There’s a bit of added pressure with both his parents and Nagi in the room watching him present, but Reo is a born performer, and he gets through the slideshow nearly flawlessly. It helps that it’s only the Japan branch of the business in the room, so Reo can be more flexible in his vocabulary and language.

At the close of the presentation, Reo gets a polite, corporate round of applause, to which he flashes a polite, corporate grin. After returning to his seat, Nagi leans towards him.

“Good job, Reo,” he murmurs, and Reo’s smile turns a little more genuine, only for it to falter when Nagi continues moving closer. He intends to give Reo a kiss on the cheek, that much is clear, but Reo shakes his head minutely.

Not here, Reo communicates through his eyes.

Nagi pauses. He stares at Reo for one, two, three moments with an unreadable gaze, before pulling away.

The rest of the meeting is a mindless discussion that Reo mostly tunes out of, only offering vague agreeable comments when the situation necessitates it. As soon as the close of the meeting is called, Reo gets up from his seat, turning to Nagi with a question about lunch at the tip of his tongue, but before he can ask it, he hears a familiar voice call his name. He turns to find his mother, a polite smile on her face. Reo immediately feels something jittery start to crawl beneath his skin.

“Reo,” she says again, “can we talk?” Her gaze slides over to Nagi, and her smile grows a little more strained. “Alone.”

Reo’s fingers twitch. “Yeah.” He turns to Nagi. “I’ll… meet you in our room?”

Nagi watches him carefully before nodding. Reo watches him leave, then waits silently with his mother as the others file out of the room. His father is the last to leave, placing a hand on his mother’s shoulder and nodding at Reo before he does. As soon as he’s out, the door slides shut with a conclusive thump. 

"Reo, darling," his mother starts, in that tone of voice that Reo knows means the rest of this conversation won't be fun. "How have you been?"

"Fine," Reo says. When his mother continues staring at him, he looks away. "Business as usual."

"Good," his mother murmurs. "That's good." She pauses. Reo wonders if he can simply hightail it out of the room. Before he can weigh the pros and cons of such an impulse, she speaks up again. "I know... it's a topic you dislike. But you remember Asuka-san, yes?"

Reo's confused enough to look up again and meet his mother's eyes. "She's a member of the board, right?"

Reo's mother nods. "Of course, we invited her and her family to the retreat as well..." She trails off. Reo gets a dull, sinking feeling in his chest. "And I do think it would be good for you, Reo, to try talking with her daughter. She's around your age, and if it works out, then—"

"Wait," Reo interrupts when he realizes what his mother means, "wait, are you trying to set me up?" He blinks. "You... didn't we already have this conversation? You told me to bring someone to the retreat, right?"

"Yes," Reo's mother agrees.

"You told me to bring someone to the retreat," Reo says slowly. "And I did."

Her expression pinches—only for a moment, but Reo has observed his mother long enough to catch it before her face smooths out again.

"You brought a friend," she corrects, almost kindly. When she sees Reo's expression, she hurries to continue. "And that's alright, Reo. I'm simply saying—"

"No," Reo blurts out. "No, that's not—Seishiro and I are dating."

His mother's eyebrows raise. "Oh," she says. She frowns. "Oh."

Well, that explained her total nonchalance when she first saw the two of them together. Across from her, Reo resists the urge to fidget on his feet.

Reo is a Mikage, and Mikages do not show weakness. Reo knows this, and yet he still has to ask—

"Can't—" He clears his throat and starts again. "Can't you tell?"

She's silent for a while, but when she looks up again, her lips are pressed in a thin line. "No," she admits with a slight shake of her head. "It's just... you two aren't very physically affectionate in public, then?"

Reo chokes on air. "It—that wouldn't be professional—"

"Professional?" his mother repeats, surprised. "Reo, this isn't meant to be a business move." Her voice lowers. "It would, of course, be beneficial if you were to align yourself with someone of a similar profession, but... I digress." She watches Reo carefully. "I… know your father and I can be harsh on you sometimes, but we want you to be happy." She pauses. "Reo, are you happy?"

Reo lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Yeah," he murmurs after a split beat. "Yeah, of course. Seishiro and I, we both like each other, we're both—" His voice falters on the last word. "—happy."

"You like him?"

The truth, somehow, is harder to force out of Reo's mouth than his previous casual lies. "Yeah. I do."

"And he likes you?"

Reo closes his eyes. "Of course," he lies, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "He loves me."

“Okay, Reo,” is her quiet response. “If you know that for sure, then…” She trails off. The dull, sinking feeling in Reo’s chest is now feeling more like a piercing, pulsing rhythm in tandem to Reo’s heartbeat.

“Is… is that all?” he gets out.

“That’s all,” Reo’s mother murmurs. “We were just worried about you.”

Reo exhales slowly, stands up straighter, and faces his mother directly. “You have nothing to be worried about.” He meets her gaze evenly, or at least as evenly as he can manage. “I promise.”

She watches him for a moment longer. “Okay,” she agrees. “We trust you, Reo.”

Reo swallows. “Then, I’ll take your leave.”

She nods, and Reo takes the out to immediately exit the room. His thoughts are loud and getting louder as he somewhat frantically makes his way back to their hotel room, and he has to fumble with the key card for a few moments longer than he’d like before he makes it inside.

“Shit,” he exhales as soon as he closes the door. “Shit.”

“Reo?” Nagi’s voice breaks through the static of Reo’s thoughts. He’s laid out on the bed, phone in hand. “What’s wrong?”

Reo pushes off of the door to pace the length of their hotel room, Nagi watching him with mild bewilderment.

“This—fucking—fuck!”

“...Reo?”

“Sorry,” Reo says, still pacing. “Sorry, I just—” He tears a hand through his hair. “I can’t—” He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise.

“What did your mom say?”

“She…” Reo trails off at the same time his feet slow. “She tried to set me up with someone.”

Nagi’s eyebrows furrow, sitting up straighter. “What?”

“She didn’t even know—she couldn’t even tell that we were dating,” Reo says with a self-deprecating laugh. “So she said I should talk to—to some random girl I don’t even know, and I—” He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

"This is really important to you," Nagi says slowly, "right?"

Reo brings a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Yeah." He lets his hand drop. "If we're not convincing here, it just means all of this was for nothing. My parents will just try to set me up with someone as soon as this is over..." He trails off with a sigh. "I... guess it was worth a shot, though."

"Hm," Nagi says. "Then, Reo, can't we just be more convincing?"

"...in theory, yeah, but... how would we do that?" Reo shakes his head with a laugh. "It's not like we can just—make out in front of them or something."

Nagi blinks. "We can't?"

Reo blinks back. "What?"

Nagi turns back to his phone without a response. Reo is left to gape at him silently. When Reo remembers how to use words again, he blurts out the first thing that rises to his tongue.

"You want to make out with me in front of my parents?"

There's a pause before Nagi answers. “If it... helps," he offers quietly. Reo's head spins. He thinks he should probably sit down.

"That's..." he starts instead of sitting down and shutting up. "That—I mean, we've never—" He laughs shakily. "We've never done it before. They'd—they'd definitely be able to tell our... inexperience."

There. That should be enough to quash that idea.

"Then," Nagi says, "should we practice?"

Chapter Text

“Practice,” Reo repeats weakly. “You want to practice?”

Nagi glances between Reo and his phone a few times before landing on his phone. “If it would help,” is his quiet response again, and Reo lets out an incredulous laugh.

“Practice,” Reo says again. It might be the only thing he’s currently capable of saying. “Nagi, no, I—I can’t make you do that—”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Nagi interrupts obstinately. He still hasn’t looked up from his phone, but his fingers aren’t tapping on the screen like usual. “I’m… offering.”

It’s a proposal that makes Reo heady when he thinks about it for longer than a moment. Nagi has given to him, handed him, offered him a sort of power that is far too much for Reo to wield alone, so he has to make the responsible decision for both of their sakes—

“Okay,” Reo blurts out.

That… is not what Reo meant to say.

“Okay?” Nagi asks.

There, an opportunity to take his words back.

“Okay,” Reo repeats instead, apparently committed to this idea of self-designed torture. He has half a mind to smash his head against the nearest wall, but he doesn’t think the hotel staff would take too kindly to cleaning up the resulting mess. “Uh, yeah. Okay.” He swallows. “If you’re—if you’re really fine with it, then—yeah. Okay.”

“I am,” Nagi says, “fine with it.” He sits up a little straighter in the bed. “How should we do it?”

Reo blinks at him stupidly. “You… you mean, right now?”

“Yeah?”

“Right now,” Reo repeats, and he finally makes the executive decision to sit down on the end of the mattress before his legs can give out beneath him. Stupid, stupid, stupid is the mantra on loop in his mind, and Reo knows it, he knows he is making every single wrong decision, but then Nagi’s standing in front of him and looking at him expectantly with those eyes, and so—what is Reo supposed to do?

"Can I?" Nagi asks quietly, and Reo swallows. He's not sure when Nagi got close enough to stand in the space between Reo's legs, and although his hand isn't yet touching Reo's cheek, it's close enough that Reo can imagine its phantom touch. Reo's eyes flicker across Nagi’s face. He nods.

Reo is perfectly paralyzed when he feels the skin of Nagi’s palm against his cheek. Reo can feel his own hands start to sweat as they awkwardly twitch on the mattress. Should he be cupping Nagi’s face, too? Should he close his eyes? Did his breath stink? Were his lips too dry?

These are all questions that rise in Reo’s mind far too late, and as Nagi slowly tilts Reo’s head up, Reo fights the urge to flee from the soft touch to lock himself in the nearby bathroom. Instead, he stays perfectly still, unable to tear his eyes from Nagi’s intense gaze as he moves closer, and it’s only moments before their lips meet that Reo’s eyes flutter closed.

There’s a feather-light brush on his lips. Then, nothing. Reo cracks open his eyes.

Nagi’s face is still centimeters away from his own. “Good?” he asks, his breath ghosting over Reo’s skin.

Reo lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah,” he murmurs, feeling the rapid drumbeat of his heart pound in his ears. It was embarrassing, honestly, feeling so affected by something that could barely be considered a kiss—Reo fervently hopes Nagi isn’t perceptive enough to spot the flush he’s sure is building in his cheeks. “Yeah, it’s… good.”

“Can I try again?”

“Again,” Reo repeats faintly, feeling vaguely light-headed at the thought. It’s just practice, he forces himself to remember, but the thought is drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Yeah.”

Reo feels lips against his own again, but this time, it doesn’t dissipate in half a heartbeat. This time, it doesn’t exist as an almost phantom brush, no, this time, Reo feels Nagi—feels his lips on Reo’s, feels one of his hands on Reo’s cheek, feels another hand on Reo’s hip, feels the wispy locks of his hair tangled in Reo’s fingers, feels him murmuring Reo’s name against his lips, feels Nagi—

This time, Reo is getting kissed within an inch of his life. And this time, Reo realizes he might be well and truly fucked.

It could be anything from minutes to hours when they finally separate—Reo can feel a pillow pressing into his back as he stares, wide-eyed and silent, at Nagi above him. His face begins to heat up once again—not that it hasn’t been flushed this entire time already—when he realizes their compromising position, with Reo’s hand against Nagi’s chest and Nagi’s hands on either side of his head, effectively caging him in. Reo pulls his hand away as if burned and quickly sits up as Nagi shifts to the side, and with a breathless laugh, he swipes a hand through his hair. He doesn’t need a mirror to know how wrecked he must look, with his skin splotched an embarrassed red, his hair entirely astray, his lips kiss-swollen, his pupils undeniably dilated—

“Reo?”

Reo’s eyes pull towards Nagi. His own hair is a mess, and Reo feels a full-body flush when he remembers his own fingers tangled in it just moments ago. To avoid looking Nagi in the eye and to keep his hands busy, he starts patting down the flyaway strands of Nagi’s hair.

“That’s…” Reo starts, but he stops when he hears how hoarse his own voice sounds. He clears his throat and tries again. “That’s… enough practice for now, right?”

“Are you sure?” Nagi asks, and Reo’s pulse pounds out an answer of no, no, never, never, but Reo bites on his tongue before it can betray him.

“Yeah—yeah, I think…” Reo coughs. “For now, at least,” he says when Nagi continues staring at him. “Um, maybe later—if it’s—needed, or something—maybe we can…” He trails off. “Keep… practicing?”

It’s a stupid, stupid answer from a stupid, stupid man. Nagi, for some perplexing reason, doesn’t question it, though, and simply leans back with a hum.

“Then, should we be more physically affectionate in public, too?” Nagi asks. “To be more convincing?”

Right—right, that was the reason they were doing this at all.

“Yeah. Whatever… whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Then,” Nagi hums, “I can hold your hand?”

“...yeah.”

“And kiss you?”

“...ah, I mean… yes?”

“Whenever I want?”

Reo blinks, a little bewildered by the question. “Um… whenever you think it would be right, I guess.”

Something adjacent to satisfaction flickers across Nagi’s face, but it’s gone before Reo can properly catalogue it. “Alright,” he murmurs, before finally tearing his eyes away from Reo and glancing at a nearby clock. “Ah,” he says, “are we getting lunch?”

Reo glances at the clock. His eyes widen.

“We are going to be so late.”

True to Reo’s prediction, they end up being more than a few minutes late to the lunch venue. Luckily enough, they still manage to grab seats next to each other at a table. Unluckily enough, the only such table happens to be the one with Reo’s parents at the end.

“Hello,” Reo greets somewhat cautiously. “Sorry we’re late, we were… ah, preoccupied.” Reo only realizes after he says it what it sounds like, and he turns away for an embarrassed cough. He feels more jittery than usual—he’d admit only in the confines of his own mind that the possibility of Nagi planting a kiss on him at any time without warning is what’s making his finger tap a little faster against his leg.

“That’s alright,” Reo’s mother says pleasantly. Her gaze slides over to Nagi. “Then, this must be…?”

“Ah… right.” Reo straightens in his seat. “This is Seishiro, I don’t think you’ve officially met before.”

“Hello,” Nagi says with a dip of his head. “It’s nice to meet you.” It’s more decorum than Reo would expect. He’s almost impressed.

Evidently, so is his mother. “Nice to meet you as well,” she returns. “Seishiro, is it? I’m sorry, I don’t know your family name…”

“Seishiro is fine,” Nagi says to Reo’s mild surprise. He glances at Reo for a slow and deliberate blink. “My family name might be changing soon.”

Reo almost forgets how to breathe at the insinuation, and he lets out a sort of strangled laugh before patting Nagi a little forcefully on the arm. His mother, from what Reo can parse out of her expression, looks partly bewildered and partly amused. Reo fervently hopes the true meaning of Nagi’s words go over her head.

“Seishiro, then,” is thankfully all his mother responds with. “You two recently started dating?”

Ah, Reo thinks belatedly, this might be a problem.

But before Reo can stop him, Nagi shakes his head. “We’ve been dating for over four years.”

Both of Reo’s parents still. They share a glance. Reo’s mother turns to Reo.

“Over four years,” she repeats slowly. “It’s been over four years, Reo?”

“Yup,” Reo says weakly, with little other option.

“...and you’ve never mentioned him to us?”

This, at least, is something Reo can refute, even if it means embarrassing himself horribly in front of Nagi. This entire trip, though, was turning out to be one embarrassing moment after another for Reo in front of Nagi, so really, what was one more?

“I usually… refer to him as Nagi,” Reo says carefully, “on the phone.”

Reo’s mother leans back slightly. “Ah,” she says. “This is Nagi?” Reo nods, and an amused smile flits across his mother’s face. “I always had wondered what that boy you talked so much about was like,” she muses. Nagi tilts his head to the side, glancing at Reo with mild confusion. Reo presses his lips together in a thin line and minutely shakes his head. Hopefully Nagi would forget about enough of the day that he wouldn’t later question how much Reo talked about him—first to Zantetsu, and now his parents. “You never mentioned you were dating, though.”

“I… I wanted to wait,” Reo explains hesitantly, making up every word that comes out of his mouth, “until we were more sure. When we first… when we first started dating, I… didn’t know how long it would last.” He bites the inside of his cheek. “I wanted to make sure it was… real.”

The irony is laughable. Nagi’s gaze is heavy on the back of Reo’s head.

“I see,” Reo’s mother hums. “And you’re sure, now?”

“...of course.”

She nods. “That’s good to hear.” She turns to Reo’s father, who’s been quiet so far, and places a hand on his arm. “Darling, do you have anything to ask Seishiro?”

The question his father asks is as boring as it is predictable. “Well, Seishiro, I imagine you have a job?”

Boring, predictable, but also safe. As Nagi begins to explain his work, the food begins to arrive, and Reo finally lets himself relax. They’d navigated the most treacherous parts of the conversation, and without even the need for overt physical affection. A small, traitorous part of Reo is a bit disappointed in the fact, but he firmly tamps it down.

Conversation flows easier after the food arrives. Nagi appears to be making comfortable discussion with both of Reo’s parents on his own, so Reo turns to the other person sitting next to him to make polite chatter while they get through the rest of lunch. Dessert eventually arrives, and Reo snacks on the small pastry on his plate absentmindedly as he continues talking.

“It’s all about timing,” he’s saying to the person next to him, who’s probably bewildered that the heir to the company has decided to randomly strike conversation with them. “Obviously, you can only sell at the right time, but you can also only buy at the right time—”

“Reo?” he hears Nagi say.

Reo turns with a yes, Seishiro? on his tongue, only for it to be swallowed by Nagi’s own mouth pressing softly against his. Reo almost startles at the sudden kiss, but catches himself at the last minute. When Nagi eventually pulls away, his hand still resting gently against Reo’s cheek, it takes everything in Reo not to gape at him stupidly.

“You had some frosting on your lips,” is Nagi’s quiet explanation, and the way he says it—his voice low with a half-lidded gaze and his hand as a cool balm against the flush on Reo’s cheeks—makes something dangerous swoop in Reo’s gut.

Huh, Reo thinks faintly, I might be in trouble.

Nagi lets his hand drop. Reo exhales slowly and wills the color in his cheeks to go down. “Thanks,” he murmurs in response. He feels too flustered to meet his parents’ gazes, although he can feel them watching him, and so instead turns back to his previous conversation partner. “Sorry, where was I?”

“...stocks, I think?”

Lunch finishes without much other fanfare, and with no predetermined agenda for the rest of the day, Reo is left with two options. On one hand, he can pull Nagi around Okinawa like they had done the day before—but Reo doesn’t know if he can survive such an outing with the knowledge that Nagi can spring a kiss on him at whatever time he’d like. On the other hand, they can return to their hotel room and watch a few movies—but Reo doesn’t know if he can survive another round of practice if Nagi asks for it. All in all, the odds of Reo’s survival are looking slim.

He decides to go for the latter, and when he suggests as much to Nagi, Nagi concedes with a casual shrug—and to Reo’s mild relief and slight disappointment, he doesn’t bring up the idea of continuing their activities from before lunch. When they make it back to their room, Reo begins scrolling through their options of movies. It’s not as extensive as he’d like, and it’s with a frown that he turns to Nagi.

“I think the best thing here is the Hallmark channel,” he complains, but Nagi simply shrugs. “You wouldn’t rather watch something else?” Reo asks, unconvinced by Nagi’s lax response. “I’m pretty sure this only consists of… cheesy romcoms and the like.”

“I don’t mind,” Nagi hums, and Reo’s eyebrows raise.

“I’d never guess you’d watch those,” Reo remarks, “but if you say so.”

He clicks on the channel, and it opens to the middle of a movie. A dramatic sort of confession is going on, if the swelling music is anything to go by. Nagi’s already splayed out on bed, so Reo toes off his shoes to sit next to him. As soon as he sits, Nagi snuggles closer to him, resting his head in the crook of Reo’s neck.

This isn’t something new—in fact, it’s usually Reo that rests his head on Nagi’s shoulder during their movie nights—but even still, with the memories of earlier in the day, it makes Reo feel horribly, horribly conscious of himself.

“Is this… uh, is this really the most comfortable position for you?”

“Yup,” Nagi says in a tone without room for question. Reo sighs.

The movies are about as bad and overly dramatic as Reo expects, and as the evening passes, Reo finds himself relaxing more in their position as he makes mindless commentary about the movies they watch. Reo’s somewhat surprised to see that Nagi watches the movies with some amount of interest, especially during the more climactic scenes. When a dramatic confession plays out on the screen, Reo finds that it’s more interesting to watch the way Nagi’s eyes widen slightly in rapture than the actual scene itself.

As the light outside dwindles into night, Reo’s own commentary slips more and more into quiet yawns, and Nagi’s hums of acknowledgment drift into soft silence. At the end of what must have been the fourth or fifth movie of their night, Reo turns to find Nagi fast asleep. By this point, Reo shouldn’t really be surprised by his uncanny ability to go to sleep so quickly.

“Nagi,” Reo tries to test if he’s actually asleep. “...Seishiro?”

There’s no response. Reo lets out a quiet breath. From so close, he can almost count each of Nagi’s individual eyelashes. He hesitates for a beat, then another, before using his hand to gently brush Nagi’s bangs to the side. Slowly, quietly, selfishly, he places a feather-light kiss on Nagi’s forehead.

Nagi continues sleeping. Reo pulls away.

“Good night, Seishiro.”

Reo wonders, as he slowly comes to consciousness the next morning, if the fact that he no longer feels any surprise at finding Nagi’s limbs tangled around his is something he should be worried about. Instead of spending any longer on the thought, he gently squeezes Nagi’s hand.

“Morning.”

Nagi mumbles something into his pillow and shifts to be even closer to Reo. Reo lets himself indulge for a moment but no longer, eventually sitting upright after some effort. He cards a hand through Nagi’s hair as he waits for the other to similarly sit up, and a few moments later, Nagi eventually does.

“Reo,” he says with only a slight whine in his voice. “It’s too early.”

“It’s… close to 11 A.M.,” Reo points out, but Nagi’s nose simply wrinkles.

“Too early,” Nagi repeats, and he makes to slump backwards into bed again, but Reo catches him with a hand on his arm before he can do so.

“Come on,” Reo says with a gentle push. “It’s our last day here, and I don’t even have any meetings. We could go to the beach, or see a movie, or—”

“Or stay in bed,” Nagi says unhelpfully. Reo shakes his head with an amused huff.

“Nice try.” Reo runs a hand through his own hair to work out any tangles, then clicks his tongue when his fingers get caught in a particularly nasty knot. “I’m overdue for a haircut,” he murmurs to himself, but Nagi must overhear, because it’s not even a moment later that Nagi’s an inch away from him.

“No,” Nagi blurts out. Reo raises an eyebrow, amused.

“No?”

“No,” Nagi repeats. He takes the lock of hair into his own hands, and with more care than Reo would expect, untangles it himself. “I like Reo’s hair like this.” His hand lingers for a moment longer before it drops.

It takes Reo a moment later to pull his eyes away. What did he care if Nagi liked his hair or not? It wasn’t like they were actually dating for it to make a difference.

Reo wonders why it took him a moment to remember that.

“Yeah?” he eventually says with a light laugh. “I’ll think about it.” He nudges Nagi again. “Now come on, we have to get ready.”

Nagi raises some more complaints, Reo pretends to listen, but they eventually do make it out of their hotel room. Today, lunch is an outdoor buffet within the hotel itself, reserved for the members of the Mikage party. It’s going to be a flood of familiar faces, so Reo makes sure to link his arm through Nagi’s in preparation.

Nagi doesn’t flinch at the action—he never does, he never has, and a part of Reo desperately burns to know why Nagi’s tolerating this entire charade without so much as a complaint or a “what a pain,” to know why Nagi doesn’t seem to think this a pain at all. It’s a sort of cruel line of thought, because it sends Reo down avenues of too much hope, when of course, the simple reason is that Nagi is a good friend. Reo’s best friend, in fact, and maybe only that, but that alone is more than enough for Reo—

—or at least, should be more than enough for Reo. It has to be enough, because there’s no other alternative.

With something uneasy under Reo’s skin, it’s ultimately no surprise that he makes a beeline for the open bar—the only difference is that this time, he’s dragging Nagi with him. Once at the bar, he opens his mouth to rattle off his typical champagne order, but at the last minute, he changes his mind.

“Give me a shot of the strongest drink you have,” Reo says, before glancing at Nagi. “Actually, make it two.”

Two shot glasses slide over. Reo picks one up and nudges the other towards Nagi, who eyes it cautiously for a moment before picking it up.

“Cheers,” Reo offers as he clinks their glasses together, Nagi echoing the sentiment quieter after him. He downs it quickly, wincing at the way it burns down his throat. He doesn’t typically drink such hard liquor unless he’s feeling especially wretched, but he figures the situation warrants the drink. He decides he doesn’t especially want to think about why he feels that way, so he tilts his head to glance at Nagi. “Another?”

Nagi blinks at him. “Okay.”

Two more arrive. A joint “cheers,” a clink of their glasses, and down the hatch. The burn is the same, but it dissipates faster. Reo wants it back, wants that numb, blistering sensation to return to distract from the cacophony of thoughts crowding his mind, so he beckons at the bartender for another round. Reo can feel Nagi’s stare on the back of his neck.

“Reo,” he hears. “Is everything fine?”

“Sure,” Reo says breezily. “Why wouldn’t it be?” He glances up to meet Nagi’s eyes with a thin smile. “It’s our last day here. Why not make the most of it, huh?” He slides the third shot towards Nagi. Nagi hesitates a bit longer than before, but takes the glass and drinks with Reo.

“I think I’m… done,” Nagi says slowly. “With the drinks.”

Reo sticks out his tongue. “Lightweight.” Two more shots arrive, and Reo downs them both in quick succession.

“Reo…”

“I’m fine,” Reo shoots down the question before Nagi can ask it. “Really.”

Nagi is obviously unconvinced by Reo’s reassurance, and opens his mouth probably to continue protesting, but another voice interrupts him before he begins to speak.

“Pur-ple bun! Is that you?”

Reo’s going to need another shot to get him through this, and so he downs another before turning to the familiar newcomer with a slightly strained smile.

“Hello, Shidou.”

“I thought you hated coming to these things,” Shidou continues, leaning towards Reo until their noses are nearly touching. Reo, long used to his coworker’s lack of awareness of personal space, simply smiles.

“Who would turn down a free trip to Okinawa?” Reo says pleasantly. Apparently satisfied with the answer, Shidou finally leans back, and it’s only then that Reo notices the man next to Shidou, tapping at his phone with a bored expression. He looks familiar, oddly so, but Reo can’t place him exactly. Maybe the alcohol is messing with his vision.

“Damn straight,” Shidou says, and it takes a few moments for Reo to remember that he’s still talking to Reo. Shidou nudges the man next to him. “Hey, hey, look. This is Reo. You know Reo?”

The man’s half-lidded gaze slides to Reo, evidently unimpressed. “Hello,” he offers blandly before going back to his phone.

“You…” Reo interrupts himself with a quiet hiccup. “You look really familiar.”

“Sae-chan is Rinrin’s big brother,” Shidou cheerfully informs them, “and my boyfriend!”

That probably explained why Rin had been glaring daggers at them for the past few minutes.

“Huh,” Reo says, “uh, congrats.”

Shidou’s grins widely, evidently pleased, before his gaze trails to Nagi. His eyebrows raise. “You’re new.” He leans closer towards Nagi and eyes him up and down. “Do I know you?”

“No,” is Nagi’s blunt response before he wraps an arm around Reo’s waist and tugs him closer. “I’m Reo’s boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Shidou says with a loud laugh. “That makes sense.”

“It does?” Reo blurts out before he can catch himself. He tries to think of a way to rescind the question, but his mind is sluggish after all his drinks, and he can only blink stupidly.

“Yeah,” Shidou confirms. “You’ve been glued together since you arrived.” His grin widens. “And you should have seen how this guy was looking at me when I was talking to you.” He tilts his head to the side. “It’s sweet, in a way.”

Nagi hums, apparently content with the evaluation. Reo can only blink again.

“Quite a catch,” Shidou continues with a low whistle, this time glancing at Nagi. “Purple bun here’s the whole package—talented and hot.” He throws his arms around his boyfriend and plants a loud kiss on his cheek. “But not as hot as my Sae-chan, of course!” Sae seems entirely unbothered by the display of affection, but he doesn’t seem bothered, either.

It’s odd, but odder still are Shidou’s comments to begin with. Reo resists the urge to shift on his feet. The compliments seem to be with good intention, but Reo’s sure that Nagi will be uncomfortable being put on the spot in such a fashion. He opens his mouth to laugh off his comment and change the topic, but before he can, Nagi beats him to the punch.

“Yeah,” Nagi murmurs. “Reo’s amazing.” He brushes his lips over Reo’s forehead. “I’m really lucky to be with him.”

Lucky, huh? Reo thinks wretchedly. Nagi’s words—and the soft, tender way he says them—make Reo’s skin flush both hot and cold. He side steps, as smoothly as he can, away from Nagi’s arm and turns to Shidou with a polite, obviously dismissive smile.

“It was very nice to run into you,” he offers. “I’m sorry, but we actually need to leave now, we have an appointment with…” He trails off without an excuse. “We have an appointment,” he repeats vaguely.

“An appointment,” Shidou repeats, before raising his eyebrows and glancing pointedly between them. “An appointment, huh?” Shidou laughs. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll keep you… preoccupied.” His eyebrows dance around. “Have fun at your appointment, then!”

“Yeah,” Reo says, grateful for the obvious out, even if it does come with some insinuations that make his face heat up. He links his fingers through Nagi’s, then tugs him away in their direction of their room. He only lets his feet slow once they’re quite removed from the rest of the crowd, after which he lets his hand drop and sighs quietly.

“Reo?”

“Sorry,” Reo offers. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t really want to…” He shakes his head. “Talking. Small talk. Wasn’t really in the mood. And Shidou is, uh… well, you saw him.”

“Back to the room, then?” Nagi asks. Reo nods.

“Yeah, let’s.”

Reo continues walking, but it’s not long before Nagi’s hand finds its way to Reo’s, and the two complete their walk—with only minimal swaying—hand-in-hand. Actually, even though there’s nothing he’d rather do less than force his way through menial conversations, there’s still something antsy under his skin. It feels like a bottle of frenetic energy, waiting to be uncorked, but Reo is pretty sure that all that awaits him in their room is a glass of water and a nap—not that sleep would be coming to Reo any time soon.

But Reo predicts wrong. As soon as they’re inside the room again, Nagi’s on Reo, pulling him close and kissing him with a fervor that bewilders Reo, even with the slight buzz under his skin. He puts a hand on Nagi’s chest and pushes away for a moment, blinking at Nagi in surprise.

“What…” Reo starts slowly, his words slurring a bit. “What are you doing?”

Nagi stares at him like the answer should be obvious, then his brows furrow, and then he looks away. Nagi’s had his own fair of alcohol this afternoon, and Reo suspects its effects are finally kicking in for him.

“Practice,” Nagi says after a pause that stumbles into silence for too long.

Reo blinks again. Well, what other answer had he been expecting?

“Oh,” Reo says, and he blames the alcohol in his veins for the split beat of disappointment in his tone that he can’t immediately cover up. He hopes Nagi’s too drunk to take note of it. “Right.”

He should tell Nagi that they really don’t need any more practice. Nagi, if Reo has learned anything in the past few days, is quite good at kissing, and anyway, they’re headed on a flight back home the very next day. But the alcohol in his veins turns his inhibitions weak and his tongue loose, so he nods.

“Practice,” Reo repeats, and that’s apparently all Nagi needs before he’s pulling Reo towards him again. They almost lose their balance, but luckily enough, there’s a bed to break their fall.

Reo’s skin is on fire wherever Nagi touches him—his face, neck, hands, arms, waist—but Reo distantly thinks this is a fire he wouldn’t mind being burned alive by. Reo’s own hands map the planes of Nagi’s face as they kiss, as if he can commit the touch to memory.

“Nagi,” Reo hums against Nagi’s mouth, the name slipping out almost unconsciously.

Nagi makes a disgruntled noise.

Reo feels his lips curve into a smile. “Seishiro,” he amends, and the pleased hum he receives in return is enough for a light laugh to slip out of him as he lets his arms rest against Nagi’s shoulders. He lets his wrists cross each other behind Nagi’s neck, close enough to wind the hair curling at the nape of his neck around his finger.

And maybe it’s the hair in Reo’s fingers or the almost-smile he can feel against his lips that makes him think, ah—

—maybe I can have this.

Because Reo, after all, is a Mikage, and Mikages—

—Mikages get what they want.

And Reo wants this. Reo wants Nagi’s half-smiles against his mouth, he wants Nagi’s fingers tangled in his own, he wants the call of Seishiro on his tongue, he wants Nagi to look at him and him alone, he wants Seishiro Nagi, all of him, for his own, for the rest of his life.

And Reo has this. Seishiro is his, Nagi promises with every kiss; Seishiro is his, Nagi promises as his hands wander to Reo’s hair and work out his hair tie; Seishiro is his, Nagi promises as he cups a hand behind Reo’s ear like he can’t live without Reo’s touch; and Seishiro is his, Nagi promises in the Reo that he murmurs against his mouth.

So when Nagi deepens the kiss, Reo can feel himself come undone and unravel in real time—Nagi’s touch, he thinks distantly, can take him apart, piece by piece by piece, and Reo would probably thank him for it. It should scare him, maybe, that Nagi can undo him so easily, but all Reo can think is more— 

Because the idea that he can have this—all of this—is more addicting than any alcohol, and the euphoria that clouds his mind is more thrilling than any victory could induce. Reo wants Seishiro Nagi, and he has Seishiro Nagi.

But if euphoria is the substance flooding into his lungs, is the cold trickle starting down his spine reality?

The fire under his skin dims. Reo breaks away from Nagi, for just a moment, before Nagi pulls him closer, but that moment alone is enough. Reo’s skin grows cold.

Reo doesn’t have this. Reo doesn’t have any of this. Reo doesn’t have the half-smiles, or the hand holding, or the dates, or the kisses, no, what Reo has is the selfish, stupid delusion of a twisted mind. This is fake, it has been since the beginning, and what this is now is nothing more than a part of an intricate charade. A simple act in the play of their machinations, but Reo has spent so much time on stage that he’s forgotten he’s playing a role at all.

A role, he’s realizing, that might be more truth than acting at all.

“Reo,” Nagi says between breaths, temporarily interrupting the maelstrom of Reo’s thoughts. “Reo—”

And the way Nagi says his name—breathless and desperate and almost, Reo can convince himself, possessive, like he wants this too, like he wants Reo—is enough for a full body flush to shoot through his skin and blood and bones, and Reo can feel himself growing light-headed and near delirious with want, want, want—

But Nagi is playing a role with his own script, and Reo cannot fault him for being so convincing in his act. Reo has a terrible, terrible urge to test the extent of his commitment to the role, and so surges up in a horrible, desperate sort of kiss—the kind to force Nagi to break away, the kind to force Nagi to withdraw, the kind to force Nagi to stop the act.

Nagi does no such thing. Instead, Nagi takes Reo’s ugly desperation and turns it into something sweet, something soft. Nagi meets his desperation with a gentleness that hurts, because Reo doesn’t deserve this kindness, this softness, and a part of Reo almost wonders if terrible desperation in kind would be easier, if Nagi was as wretched as Reo.

Nagi isn’t, of course. He is better, better than Reo and his twisted, tangled desires, and that is the only reason Reo can pretend to have even this much.

Reo wants Seishiro Nagi, but Reo does not have him, and Reo will never have him. At the close of the curtain, Reo will be left on the stage to pick up the mangled pieces of his own heart alone.

“Reo,” he feels Nagi murmur against his lips. Reo ignores the increasing pounding in his head to press his lips against Nagi’s again, but it’s only for a moment before Nagi pulls away again. “Reo,” he repeats more insistently, “you’re crying.”

Reo jerks backwards, his eyes fluttering open in surprise. “What?” He touches his hand to his cheek. “No, I’m no—” His fingertips come back wet. His words cut off sharply. “Oh.”

“...Reo?”

Shit, Reo thinks, squeezing his eyes shut against the dull throbbing of his head, not here, not like this—

Because Reo is a Mikage, and Mikages don’t cry.

Except when they do, and except when it’s Reo, because when Reo cries, it’s loud and it’s ugly and it’s messy, and he has never shown such vulnerability in front of Nagi, but here, there is nowhere to hide, and Reo thinks—

“Shit,” he says out loud, but the word comes out like a strangled sob. He scrubs viciously at his eyes against the hot tears that fall, biting the inside of his cheek to muffle the sobs that shake his shoulders. “Shit.”

“Reo?”

“Well,” Reo chokes out as he swipes at his eyes in vain. “This is—” Mortifyingly, his voice breaks on a sob. He swallows and tries again. “This is embarrassing.”

“Reo,” Nagi says again, and Reo thinks faintly he’s never heard Nagi sound so lost, “what happened?” Reo shakes his head wordlessly, not trusting his words to not falter again if he tried to use them. Through the blurry sheen of tears clouding his vision, he can see something uncertain flicker across Nagi’s face. “Did I…”

“No,” Reo gets out. “No, it’s not you—” He takes another shuddering inhale. “It’s not you, Seishiro.” It could never be you.

Nagi looks somewhat appeased by his words, but there’s still a wrinkle of tension between his eyebrows—probably because Reo is still gulping through heaving sobs. Slowly, slowly, he brings his hands to cup Reo’s face, brushing his thumb ever so lightly against the skin under Reo’s eyes, and the touch is so soft, so Nagi, that Reo can do nothing but cry harder, uselessly—

“Reo,” Nagi murmurs. “Don’t cry.” Reo squeezes his eyes shut as Nagi rubs soft circles on the skin of his face. “Did something happen?”

“It’s just—” Reo hiccups. “It’s just the alcohol.”

Nagi looks wholly unconvinced by Reo’s excuse, but he must know that pushing on it will only make the invisible cracks on Reo’s skin fracture more, because he knows Reo. He knows Reo, and somehow, that’s the most horrible thing of them all.

Nagi hums before moving closer. He places a kiss on Reo’s nose, one on his cheek, one on his other cheek, and a final, sweet kiss on his forehead. “Don’t cry, Reo,” Nagi says again, and Reo thinks desperately, terribly, stop treating me like you love me.

Reo inhales once, exhales once. Inhales again, exhales again. He still feels shaky and raw and turned inside-out, but Nagi’s careful touch has greatly soothed his tender cracks. He moves his own hand to rest against Nagi’s. “I…” he starts, but he trails off into an unsatisfactory silence immediately.

“Do you… want anything?” Nagi asks awkwardly, watching Reo carefully. “...water?”

You, Reo thinks immediately. I want you. Let me have all of you, let me carve a space in your body, and let me call it home.

Reo takes a breath.

“...water would be good.”

Chapter Text

“Ah, I’m glad I could catch you before you left.”

Reo looks up from his phone to meet his mother’s curious gaze. “Hm?”

“Where’s Seishiro?”

“The bathroom.”

“A shame… I was hoping to say good bye to him as well,” his mother muses, before shaking her head. “Never mind that. Your father and I are leaving shortly, and we just wanted to say farewell.” She peers at him silently. When it’s clear she won’t speak again without Reo’s prompting, Reo sighs.

“...and?”

“And,” she says immediately, “you really should bring Seishiro for dinner with us sometime.” She nods. “Just the four of us—it would be nice, no?”

Reo hopes his resulting smile doesn’t look more like a grimace. “Nice,” he repeats blandly. “Yeah, I’ll… talk to him about it.”

His mother doesn’t beam, necessarily—that wouldn’t be appropriate, after all—but she does get close. “Lovely,” she says, before leaning in to give Reo a kiss on the cheek. “Then, I’ll see you both again soon?”

“Yeah.”

She departs with a wave. Reo is left with the sound of his own thoughts for only a few moments—soon enough, a familiar weight drapes over his shoulders.

“Reooo,” Nagi whines into his skin. “I’m tired.”

“I know,” Reo says with a sigh. “Our ride will be here soon.” Nagi hums, and Reo remembers his mother’s request. “Hey, Seishiro?”

“Hm?”

“I think we should end this.”

Nagi stills, then pulls away until he’s facing Reo. “What?”

Reo looks away from his wide-eyed stare. “I think we should end this,” he repeats. He laughs lightly. “I mean, there’s no reason for us to pretend anymore, right?” When the weight of Nagi’s stare on him doesn’t lighten, he feels compelled to continue. “We only… have this arrangement to convince other people, but—I mean—it’s not like there’s anyone left we have to convince, so we can…” He trails off. “You know.”

“No,” Nagi blurts out. Reo raises his eyebrows.

“No?”

“No,” Nagi repeats, and this time, he’s the one to avert his gaze. “We have another event soon—we’re, hm, announcing the release date of our game. There’s a big function.” Reo stares at him. Nagi finally glances back to meet his eyes. “Everyone’ll be… suspicious if you don’t show up,” he offers.

“When is it?” Reo asks after a pensive pause.

“Some time next week,” Nagi answers vaguely, giving Reo the impression that Nagi doesn’t quite exactly know when the event is at all, and Reo closes his eyes with a sigh.

Because the idea that he has to keep this up—continue this charade for another week—makes him sick. There’s a terrible, writhing, nauseating thing in his gut that thrashes at the idea of continuing to play pretend, a dull sort of ache in his chest that throbs at the thought of casual glances, touches, kisses under the guise of practice, and an erratic pressure in his head that builds with every moment Reo taunts himself with what he can’t have. He has joked through the thrashing, smiled through the aching, and laughed through the pressure until now, all because he knows there is a concrete end in sight, a point in time they can go back to normal, a point in time they have to go back to normal—never mind that it’s a normal no longer enough for Reo and his rampant desires.

So when Nagi offers to postpone such a point in time, it frightens Reo. He’d already let his inhibitions slip to near the point of no return, and Reo doesn’t know how much longer he can continue this before he makes a mistake that’ll be too much to take back.

But if he says no, if he denies Nagi this request, it will be tantamount to a confession of all of Reo’s treacherous secrets. He will say no, Nagi will ask why, and Reo will have no choice but to tell him that Reo is too fearful of his own feelings to continue their charade, essentially destroying whatever remains of their friendship for good.

Also, Reo is weak. His weakness has led his hands to wander Nagi’s skin, his mouth to murmur Nagi’s name against his lips, and here, his words to concede, over and over, Nagi’s innocent requests for his own selfish wants. Reo knows this, and yet can do nothing to stop it. Something like self-loathing writhes under his skin.

“Okay,” Reo says.

Nagi straightens. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Reo repeats. “It’s just—another week, right?”

Nagi nods. Reo distantly thinks that he hates himself, but then Nagi takes his hand, and Reo’s thoughts quieten, just a bit.

Reo thinks he might hate himself for that, too.

Unlike the flight to Okinawa, Reo is entirely silent on the flight back to Tokyo. He doesn’t say a word, only because the thoughts spinning and bouncing off of the walls of his mind are much too loud for Reo to speak against. It’s a torturous sort of experience, only made worse by Nagi resting his head against Reo’s shoulder and dozing off for most of the flight. This isn’t even anything new—Nagi uses Reo as a pillow nearly all the time, and always has, but this time, against the backdrop of Reo’s insidious, hateful thoughts, Nagi’s weight against his shoulder feels more like an indomitable, mounting pressure.

So Reo is relieved when the flight lands and Nagi reluctantly extricates himself away, and Reo is relieved when they make it back to their apartment with two bedrooms, and Reo is relieved when he’s able to say a good night to Nagi in the living room and return to his own bedroom, but that relief is sharply cut short when with a lazy yawn, Nagi casually follows Reo to his bedroom.

“What… what’re you doing?” he asks stupidly as Nagi clambers into the bed. Nagi mumbles something incoherent in response. Reo’s fingers twitch. “This is… my bedroom.”

Nagi turns to peer at him sleepily. “Isn’t it fine?” He yawns. “This is less of a pain.”

No, Reo wants to say, get out, get out—

“Okay,” Reo says.

So Nagi moves into Reo’s room and Reo’s bed and becomes the first thing Reo sees when he wakes up, which sounds sweet and domestic and it’s everything Reo’s ever wanted but instead the sight makes Reo dizzy with anxiety, because how, after all of this, how is Reo supposed to live without it? How is he supposed to live without Nagi’s constant touch, without Nagi’s lazy morning kisses, without Nagi’s sleep-tinged voice calling his name after he has experienced it all long enough to commit to permanent, tortured memory?

Reo doesn’t know, but the time remaining for him to find the answer is running out.

The rest of the week passes both too slowly and too quickly. Every lingering touch lasts an eternity on Reo’s skin, but every fleeting glance disappears before Reo can save it to memory. The dichotomy drives him mad, and he gets no escape from it either outside their apartment or in it. Whenever they go on an outing—a rare enough occurrence, since Reo now scrambles for any excuse he can to avoid it—Nagi’s glued to his side with either a hand in his or an arm linked through Reo’s. This is their rehearsal before the final showing, Reo tells himself, but even that doesn’t lessen the way Nagi’s touch now feels like poison against his skin.

The worst instance of Nagi carelessly continuing their act takes place, though, not on such an outing, but in their apartment itself. Reo, who had been throwing himself into various pursuits to distract from the sound of his own thoughts, had taken to dabbling in the kitchen with various recipes he had stumbled upon online. It’s in the middle of such a preparation that Reo feels a familiar weight land on his shoulders.

“Hello,” Reo greets warily, turning to face Nagi. “Did you… need something?”

Nagi hums, resting his arms on Reo’s shoulders. He leans in to press his lips against Reo’s forehead, then his cheek, then his nose, then his forehead again, then his other cheek, and he continues until Reo grows dizzy trying to keep track of Nagi’s soft kisses. The final one is planted squarely on Reo’s lips, and Reo is so dazed that he can do little but gape at Nagi when he finally pulls away.

“What… what was that for?”

Nagi’s gaze dips to Reo’s apron, and Reo is fascinated by the slight, almost smile that flickers across his face. “Just following instructions,” Nagi murmurs with a slight tug at the fabric.

Reo looks down at his own apron. Kiss the cook, it reads. Reo resists the urge to immediately rip it off.

“Ah…” he says with a weak laugh. “I see.” He swallows. “Practice, then?”

Nagi doesn’t respond with anything other than a noncommittal hum. Reo also resists the urge to burn the entire kitchen down.

And so, it continues: Reo resists his urges and counts down the days. A distant part of him knows that going back after all of this might be worse than his current predicament, but even still, with every night that he gets close to his safe, easy, boring normal, Reo convinces himself that he wants that safe, easy, boring normal.

But in the last night before Nagi’s event, Reo slips. Nagi’s asleep, or so Reo thinks, and so Reo indulges in a last look at his peaceful expression, a last look at the way his eyelashes rest, and a last look at how his hair curls against Reo’s pillow. As Reo drinks in the sight for the last time, he is overwhelmed by the wave of fondness that crashes over him. Maybe it is that, or maybe it is his own drowsiness, but Reo leans down to brush his lips lightly over Nagi’s forehead.

“Seishiro,” he murmurs into the silence between them. “I love you.”

Nagi shifts. Reo freezes.

Nagi mumbles something into his pillow. Reo allows himself to relax only when he realizes it’s simply Nagi’s unconscious reaction.

Saying the words out loud, even if to a deaf and mute audience, should make Reo feel lighter, he thinks. Instead, Reo just feels more wretched. Love—it was laughable.

With a final lingering glance, Reo turns around and falls into a fitful slumber.

"No makeup this time?" Nagi asks, and Reo swallows against the bitter taste rising on his tongue.

"Not... not this time," he tries to say with a casual shrug. "I wasn't feeling it."

"Hm," is Nagi's equivocal response, before leaning forward to press his lips softly against Reo's forehead. "Well, Reo is pretty with or without makeup."

The bitter taste grows stronger. Reo turns away with a quiet laugh.

“I can’t believe you’re ready before me,” Reo remarks, before glancing at Nagi again and clicking his tongue. “Your hair is still a mess, though…”

Nagi tilts his head to the side. “Fix it for me?”

You can do it yourself, Reo should say.

“Okay,” Reo says instead, because Reo is weak, weak, weak—

—tonight, though, their play ends, and the curtain falls. Reo’s weakness will no longer have a spotlight to shine under, and all he can do is hope that its absence is enough.

Eventually, they clamber into their ride and head for the event venue. All Reo knows is that it’s a much more extravagant location than last time, and in the week prior, he had prepped Nagi on a few talking points in the event that he would have to make another speech. That, at least, was something he could do without feeling especially wretched, and Reo hopes Nagi will get the opportunity to present what he’s prepared.

The location, Reo learns when they step outside, is about as lavish as Reo had expected, with a great big winding staircase greeting them at the very entrance. The inside is no less luxurious, with a wide stage on one end of the room, tables evenly placed in the middle, and open balconies on the other end. A decadent chandelier illuminates the majority of the area, with smaller candles placed sporadically throughout the rest of the room.

“Impressive,” Reo murmurs to Nagi, who’s looking around like he, too, is seeing it all for the first time.

“Where’d they get the budget for this?” Nagi mutters to himself, and Reo bites back a laugh.

“Ah, there’s Ego,” Reo notes when he finds the lanky man talking to a woman on the other side of the room. He lightly pushes Nagi forward. “Go on, he’ll probably want to talk to you.”

Nagi’s lips pull down in a slight pout, but with a last squeeze of Reo’s hand, he makes his way over to the other side of the room. Reo lets his own gaze wander, his eyes catching on a platter serving glasses of champagne. His hand twitches, but he doesn’t make any move to approach it—for better or for worse, he remembers quite well what happened the last time he ingested alcohol, and he’s not especially keen for a repeat performance.

It only takes a few moments for the venue to fill up with guests. It’s many more people than Reo saw last, and even as amicable chatter fills the room, Reo still starts to feel suffocated with every stranger that passes his field of vision. It’s a testament to how shaky Reo feels that he doesn’t feel comfortable in such a room, but he tamps down any feeling of discomfort and tries to focus on the stage, where it looks like Nagi will, in fact, be giving a speech.

“Hey,” a voice greets him gruffly. Reo glances to the side to find Barou squinting at him. “You’re here.”

Reo smiles weakly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Barou shakes his head. “I figured you wouldn’t want to see your boyfriend give another horrible speech and embarrass himself.”

Reo frowns. “He… wasn’t that bad last time. And anyway, he prepared more for this one.” A distance away, Ego announces Nagi’s presence, and Nagi takes the stage. He scans the crowd to find Reo, and Reo flashes a supportive thumbs up. Nagi stares at him for a moment longer before taking out a few notecards. Reo straightens a little at the sight and turns to Barou with a pleased grin. “See? He’s got notes and everything.”

“Uh huh,” Barou says, clearly unconvinced. “Your doing, I’d guess?”

“I may have suggested the idea,” Reo admits.

Nagi begins his speech, this time with minimal pausing and proper projection. Reo can feel his own grin widen as Nagi continues, and he can also feel the weight of Barou’s stare on the back of his head.

“I don’t know how you stand him,” Barou mutters to Reo, and Reo sends him an unimpressed glance, but Barou’s not finished. “But however you do it,” he makes a face, “I guess it is working.” He shrugs. “You’re a good boyfriend to that loser.”

Reo’s grin falters. Reminder, after reminder, after reminder, of what Reo can’t have, and Reo is tired—

“Yeah, well,” Reo starts with a slow exhale and a careful smile. “I’m not sure how much longer it’ll last.”

Barou stares at him. “You’re breaking up with him?”

Reo blinks and shakes his head. “No, but I—”

“Then I don’t think you have anything to be worried about,” Barou interrupts with a snort. “That guy would rather kill himself than break up with you.”

“Ha,” Reo says blandly after a pause. “Sure.”

“You don’t believe me?” Barou asks with a raised eyebrow. Reo doesn’t bother responding, instead choosing to tune back into Nagi’s speech.

“There are obviously a lot of people who we owe this early release to,” Nagi is saying. “Every department played a role, whether the visual design team or the background software…” He trails off and looks up from his notes. “So, thank you.”

Reo and Barou contribute to the resulting round of polite applause, the latter a bit more begrudgingly. Nagi waits for it to fall silent again before he continues.

“I also wanted to take this opportunity,” Nagi continues slowly, and Reo watches, a little confused, as he tucks his notecards away, “to thank someone very special to me.”

Reo freezes.

“He’s been, ah… a constant support for me, and… I’m grateful for everything he’s done for me, and—everything he continues to do for me.” Nagi’s eyes flit through the crowd before landing on Reo’s. “I couldn’t repay you in a thousand lifetimes,” he murmurs, and it’s almost like he’s addressing Reo alone, that the crowd around them doesn’t exist, that it’s simply them—Reo and Nagi and nothing and no one else.

Reo and Nagi and nothing and no one else. It’s everything Reo’s ever wanted, in a picture perfect package.

“I love you, Reo.”

The illusion shatters, and Reo bleeds against the shards.

Nagi continues talking. Reo cannot hear him. Next to him, Barou says something. Reo cannot hear him.

Reo needs to leave.

Distantly, he excuses himself. He slips through the crowd to the other side of the room until he’s distanced from the audience, until his hands meet the marble of the balcony railing, until the biting wind outside hits his skin and sinks, sinks, sinks until he cannot feel himself.

Reo has no idea how long he stands there, staring emptily into the night before him. He has no idea how long he stands there, perfectly still and numb and unfeeling. He has no idea how long he stands there, until the sound of applause from behind him startles sensation back into his skin and mind—sensation like pinpricks of ice crawling into his veins, sensation like the pulse of his heart in his throat, sensation like the loud and louder whispers of his own voice in the back of his mind. If he had been still and numb and unfeeling before, it is the opposite now—everything, all of it, has begun violently raging against the careful, now worn-down guardrails of his mind.

Reo’s hands tighten on the railing.

The applause behind him has quieted to conversation. Here, now, is the perfect time to slip away—he could tell Nagi later that the party, the crowd, the people were too much—

“Reo?”

—but it is too late for that.

Stay quiet, Reo pleads with himself, stay quiet, just for tonight, please—

But Reo’s vitriol, self-hatred, frustration, fear, and anger have had enough of staying quiet, and they thrash and mix and collide, and the result bubbles out of Reo’s throat to spill into the air between them as the foul concoction it is—

“You make me sick.”

“...what?”

“I don’t—” Reo interrupts himself with a laugh that sounds more like a sob. “I don’t get it.” He shakes his head and turns to face Nagi, his palms open. “How can you do this?”

Nagi’s eyes dart from Reo’s hands to Reo’s face to Reo’s eyes. “How can I do…?”

“How can you do this?” Reo demands again. He’s self-aware enough to notice the near hysterical pitch of his voice, but he’s not self-aware enough to bring it back to normal. He laughs again. “How can you do any of this? How can you touch me like you mean it, how can you kiss me like you mean it, how can you tell me that you love me—” Reo refuses to acknowledge the way his voice threatens to crack, “like you mean it, Seishiro?”

“Reo—”

“It’s—it’s unbelievable,” Reo barrels on with another shaky laugh. “It’s unbelievable, really!” He tears his eyes away from Nagi. “I know—I’ve known this is all just some—some sort of game to you—that I’m just some sort of prop to make your life easier—less of a hassle,” he sneers, “but god damn it, Seishiro, I’m a real fucking person—”

”Don't,” Reo is surprised to hear Nagi interrupt with narrowed eyes. “Don't say that. You know it’s not true.” He takes a step forward. “A game? You think this is a game to me?”

“I’m not stupid, Nagi,” Reo spits out. “I know this, all of this—I know I don't actually matter to you.”

“You are. You are stupid.”

“What? Fuck you!”

“Reo.” Nagi grabs his wrist before he can take a step back. “Don't pretend like you haven’t enjoyed this. Don't pretend like you don’t want this—“

Reo sees red.

“Fuck you," Reo snarls again, tearing his hand out of Nagi’s grip. “Enjoyed what? Being used? God, I must have been making your life so damn easy—you think I fucking want this? You think I want you?”

He does. Of course, he wants Nagi, wants him as much as he needs air to breathe—

—but not like this. Not like this mangled, corrupted reflection of what he could have, not like this careful web woven of lies, lies, lies. Reo does not want Nagi like this, would rather never have had him at all than keep up this polluted pretense that builds in his lungs like smoke, that twists and churns and turns the blood in Reo's veins black. No, not like this—

—but Reo's love is one that hungers. It is all-encompassing, it craves and craves and craves to devour until there is nothing left, and Reo knows this because he knows himself. There is no middle ground—it is all or nothing. He will either have all of Nagi or destroy himself trying—

—but Reo cannot have him. Reo cannot have him, not when all he has to offer is this ugly, destructive love, and it has taken him too long to realize it.

“Reo—”

“Don’t. Nagi, please, just—” Reo bows his head and presses a hand to his eyes. “This has lasted too long already. Please, let’s just—end it.”

Nagi’s silent. Reo’s insides feel hollow.

“But…” Nagi starts slowly, “I have, um… another event next week—”

“You can’t be serious.”

Nagi stays silent. Reo laughs incredulously.

“So you really were going to string me along forever,” he murmurs. “That was your plan, was it?”

“No, Reo, that’s not—”

“I’m done,” Reo interrupts. “You hear me? I’m done.”

Nagi’s mouth opens, but if Reo hears his own name from Nagi’s mouth one more time, he really might not be able to control himself. So he shuts Nagi up the only way he knows how—with a biting, ugly, desperate kiss that’s more Reo pressing his lips against Nagi’s in vain than a kiss at all. When it becomes clear Nagi isn’t going to reciprocate, Reo pulls back with a bitter smile. Because maybe Reo is just Reo, and maybe that's never been enough.

"I guess you finally stopped pretending."

It's only after an uncomfortable pause that Nagi speaks up again.

"I don't... understand you, Reo," Nagi admits quietly. "You say you don't want me, and then you kiss me. I..."

"I didn't mean it," Reo interrupts shortly. He means the former, but he'll let Nagi assume it's the latter. "So don't worry about it." His smile thins. “Let’s go home?”

Without waiting for a response, Reo spins on his heel and heads for the exit.

One uncomfortable car ride later, they make it back to their apartment. As soon as Reo steps inside, he shrugs his coat off and chucks it to one end of the bedroom, then rips his hair tie off and chucks it to the other end. Immediately after, he turns off the light and sinks into bed, but he only gets a few minutes before a familiar weight settles down next to him.

“Reo,” Reo hears Nagi murmur. “I’m sorry.”

Reo closes his eyes. “Get out,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“This is my room,” Reo grits out. “Get out.”

When he wakes up the next morning, Nagi is gone.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Reo. You want to go on a date?"

Reo hums. Nagi squints at the bare interior of their fridge.

“Ah,” he sighs forlornly, “I think we’re almost out of fruit jelly.”

Reo sits up so suddenly, that even from the other end of the room, Nagi can hear the motion. “Wait, what?”

Nagi pulls his head out of the fridge. Reo’s eyes are wide with surprise. Nagi thinks it’s a lovely look on him.

”I think we’re almost out of fruit jelly,” he begins to explain again, but Reo shakes his head to interrupt.

”No, no, before that,” Reo specifies. “What did you say?”

”Oh.” Nagi blinks. He thought the question had been clear. “You want to go on a date?”

Reo’s expression does something funny. “With—with you?”

It’s not exactly the response Nagi had been hoping for, but it’s not necessarily a no, either. Reo blinks quickly and straightens in his seat.

”Where—“ He lets out a peal of laughter, but it’s not his typical laugh. Nagi would know. “Where’s this coming from?”

Actually, it’s not really coming from anything at all. Nagi isn’t even sure what compelled the question to slip out, and now, faced with Reo’s wide-eyed stare, he feels that he should probably answer something other than the truth—that he felt like it. To avoid looking Reo in the eye as he comes up with an excuse, he reaches into the fridge again to grab a jelly pouch.

”You know that new video game we’re working on?”

”Yeah. What about it?”

“We hit a development milestone ahead of schedule,” Nagi explains without excitement. “I guess it’s a big deal or something, so they’re throwing a party for it.”

”Uh huh.”

”I need a plus one for the party.” Nagi really, really doesn’t. “Or else I won’t be able to go.” Nagi’s really, really sure that Ego would rather he doesn’t show up at all. “Not that I want to go—“ That part, at least, isn’t a lie. “—but I’ve skipped too many already.” He pauses. “Or something.”

Nagi’s sure Reo will take one look at Nagi’s face and figure out the entire story is made-up bullshit, but to his mild surprise, Reo leans back instead, obviously relieved.

Relieved, huh? The thought brings a frown to Nagi’s face.

”Oh,” Reo says. “Is that all? You need a date for the event?” Nagi hums. “That’s no problem.”

Nagi unconsciously feels himself straighten. Was Reo okay with the idea?

“There are a few people I know that I can set you up with,” Reo continues. Nagi deflates as he watches Reo tap at his phone.

”But I asked you,” he tries to say. He can hardly get the last word out before Reo interrupts again.

”Oh—Kiho’s available tomorrow at noon! Does that work?”

No, Nagi wants to say. I asked you.

Reo must mistake his expression for something else, because to Nagi’s further dismay, he continues talking about the random person. “Kiho’s a sweet girl, I think the two of you will get along pretty well. She even plays video games, like you.”

Nagi doesn’t really see himself getting out of this. Once Reo puts his mind to something, he doesn’t stop until that goal is accomplished. It’s usually something Nagi loves about him, but in this case, Nagi is increasingly regretting opening his mouth.

”Hm,” he says noncommittally when he realizes Reo’s still waiting for a response.

Apparently satisfied with the nonverbal answer, Reo taps at his phone a few more times before turning to Nagi with a brilliant grin. “Alright, tomorrow confirmed, then! I’ll send you the address later.” He tilts his head to the side and pats the seat on the couch next to him. “Now come on, we’ve got to finish our movie.”

Reo, Nagi thinks somewhat despairingly, why aren’t you listening?

But Reo’s grin quietens any reservations in Nagi’s mind—it always has. And when Reo snuggles next to Nagi on the couch as their movie resumes, Nagi figures he can tolerate a few drab dates if it’ll preserve Reo’s smile.

The dates are as boring and dull as Nagi had expected. It’s not even necessarily the girls’ faults—actually, it’s probably Nagi’s fault for comparing them all to Reo as soon as they walk into the room. In any case, none of them hold a candle to Reo, and Nagi tells Reo as much, but instead of Reo beaming or blushing prettily under the praise, he only gets more frustrated with every failed date. It confuses Nagi to no end.

It could be on the fifth or hundredth date that Reo’s frustration finally hits a boiling point—not that Nagi could be bothered to keep count.

”Of course,” Reo’s saying, his hands moving about wildly in the air, “of course the people I set you up with won’t have the exact same color hair as me—they’re not me, Nagi.”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? Nagi taps mindlessly at his phone. Another kill shot.

”Can you just do it, then?”

Nagi doesn’t need to look up to feel the weight of Reo’s subsequent stare. “Can I just…?” He trails off. Nagi really hopes he doesn’t have to repeat himself again. “Can I just, what, date you?”

Yay, Nagi thinks as he continues to tap on his phone. Reo finally got it. He nods. Reo’s silence grows longer, for long enough that Nagi worries he’s misunderstood again. Just as he’s about to look up, though, Reo speaks up.

”Oh,” he says quietly. “Oh! You mean fake dating, don’t you?”

Nagi stops tapping at his phone.

”As in, we pretend to be dating, right?”

Reo must be joking. But as Nagi finally looks up, he finds nothing but excitement on Reo’s face, and slowly, slowly, he realizes that Reo hasn’t understood anything at all.

What a pain, Nagi thinks as he goes back to staring blankly at his phone.

He should say no—clear up the air. But Reo seems excited about this possibility, in a way unlike when he was talking about it before. He seems like he’d actually agree to this proposal, and even though it’s not what Nagi means, he thinks he’d rather have this than the alternative—nothing.

”Mm,” he says.

“It makes sense,” Reo muses. "We already know each other, so it wouldn't be too difficult to fake—plus, you only need it for this one event, right?” Nagi wishes he could get away without a nod, but he does it anyway. “Yeah, I guess that would be easier than committing to a whole relationship. Less of a pain, right?”

A committed relationship with you doesn’t sound like a pain, Nagi kind of wants to say.

“Less of a pain,” he agrees instead.

Reo nods. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Just for this event—I’ll do it.”

This is a bit of a strange situation. Nagi isn’t entirely sure how they got there. He just hopes Reo likes him enough as a fake boyfriend to want him as a real one.

“What about ground rules?”

“Ground rules?” Nagi repeats.

“Yeah, you know. How much you’re comfortable with when we’re around your coworkers.” Nagi could care less what his coworkers think of him and his relationships. “You’re fine with hugs?” Reo asks.

“Okay.”

“You’re fine with holding hands?”

“Okay.”

“You’re fine with a kiss on the cheek?”

“Okay.”

“You’re fine with a kiss on the lips?”

“Okay.”

Nagi hears Reo lean back in his chair. “I knew it,” he complains. “You’re not even listening to what I’m saying, you’re just agreeing with everything.”

That’s wrong. Nagi is listening to what Reo’s saying, and agreeing with everything. There’s a difference.

He can’t very well tell Reo as much, though, so he sticks with as nonchalant a response as he can offer.

“I don’t really care,” he mutters. “Anything’s fine.”

“Anything, huh,” Reo says. “I think we’ll stick to cheek kisses. If needed.”

Before Nagi can think of a way to very subtly request that Reo stick to more than just that, the plate of pancakes Reo had ordered earlier arrives. Reo quickly busies himself with the fork and knife, and the rest of their time in the restaurant—can Nagi call it a date?—passes quickly. When the receipt arrives at the end of their meal, Reo pauses at an item on the bill.

“Excuse me,” he says to their waiter, “but can I ask what this is regarding?”

“Since it’s December 24th,” the waiter explains, “there’s a 25% discount for all couples.”

Reo blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Err, but we—”

Is Reo seriously about to correct her on her assumption and lose their discount? “Thanks,” Nagi interrupts before Reo can finish. “Come on, Reo, let’s go.”

“A-ah, yeah. Let’s.”

Once Nagi’s successfully tugged Reo outside of the café, Reo lets out a light laugh.

“They thought we were a couple?” Reo asks, bringing a hand to Nagi’s cheek and gently swiping his thumb against some leftover frosting. The touch lasts for less than a second, but Nagi likes to imagine it lingers even after Reo’s pulled back. “What gave them that impression?”

“...I have no idea.”

Nagi doesn’t plan on spending much time at this troublesome office party, and he doesn’t especially expect much out of it, either. He is somewhat hoping that he’ll get a chance to show off what a good boyfriend he would be to Reo, but he doesn’t really anticipate that his workplace will be the best opportunity for it. No matter what, though, he gets an excuse to see Reo in makeup and hold Reo’s hand all evening, so in that sense, it’s still a victory.

Nagi ends up being somewhat surprised with the extent to which Reo throws himself into the role of Nagi’s boyfriend. Most surprising is probably after they run into Bachira and Isagi, when Reo turns to Nagi with a bright grin and brighter eyes.

“You’re kidding,” he says with a squeeze to Nagi’s arm. “That’s amazing, N—Seishiro!”

Nagi’s eyes widen. Seishiro—he’s imagined before how it would sound to hear his first name in Reo’s voice, but his imagination is nothing compared to the real thing. Nagi wonders how he can keep Reo calling him that forever.

He’s still staring at Reo in a stupefied silence. He blinks once, twice, then coughs.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s not a big deal.”

And fuck Ego for making it a big deal—now Nagi’s forced to go up and deliver what he already knows is going to be a horrible, disastrous impromptu speech.

Still, the kiss on his cheek he gets from Reo at the end of it might make it worth it.

In the course of the evening, they have the misfortune of running into Barou, as well—Barou, who’s shown up alone, Barou, who might just crush Nagi’s not-so-carefully set up plan. Before Nagi can think of a way to ease out of the conversation, Reo turns to Nagi with a specific smile—the smile he gives Nagi when he wants something.

“By the way, Seishiro,” he starts innocently enough, “can I see your phone?”

Nagi blinks. “Why?”

“Just want to check the time. My phone died.”

Nagi is almost certain that’s not true, and he’s almost certain Reo has an ulterior motive for asking, but he pulls out his phone anyway. The wallpaper he has is a bit incriminating, but maybe he can pass it off as a recent change—

“I’ve seen that picture more than I’ve seen my mother.”

—well. Maybe Reo won’t ask about it anyway. Nagi hopes he doesn’t, because he really doesn’t have a reason for making that picture, with Reo’s brilliant grin, the very first thing he sees whenever he opens his phone. He also hopes Reo never finds the photo album of similarly candid shots of Reo’s laugh.

Barou, apparently incapable of keeping his mouth closed, starts talking about the fact that he came to the office party alone, and Nagi takes that as his cue to usher himself and Reo out of the party. He didn’t need Barou telling Reo about his own little white lie.

Exhaustion sets into Nagi’s skin as soon as they return to the car taking them back to their home, and he has no hesitation in slumping next to Reo. Reo works his fingers through Nagi’s hair, and the familiar sensation only makes Nagi drowsier.

“Hey, Nagi,” he hears Reo murmur. “You know that picture on your phone?” Nagi hums. “Where’s that from?”

“A few weeks ago. In Shibuya.”

“Right,” Reo says quietly. “Ah… why’d you take it, though?”

“Pretty,” Nagi mumbles into Reo’s shoulder.

Reo nudges Nagi a little upright. “What?”

“Pretty,” Nagi repeats. “Reo looked pretty.”

“Huh,” Reo says.

“You always do,” slips out of Nagi in a quiet murmur, but the sleep tugging at his consciousness slurs his words, and he doesn’t think Reo hears them. Reo says something more, and Nagi strains to hear, but the darkness is too compelling, and so with Reo’s warmth next to him, he slips into a sound slumber.

“Hey, Nagi. You want to go on a date?”

“Okay,” Nagi responds immediately.

“...what?”

Nagi blinks. “What?”

He’d assumed Reo was asking because he had been so impressed by Nagi’s performance as a fake boyfriend the week prior, but there’s a strange look on Reo’s face that tells Nagi he might not have succeeded just yet. To his disappointment, Reo’s next words make his prediction true.

“I need a… date… for an event.” Reo gives him a strained smile. “You think you can fake it with me again for a bit?”

“Oh,” Nagi says.

Does it have to be fake? he wants to ask.

“Okay,” he says instead.

Reo gets a strange look on his face at Nagi’s agreement. Nagi has no idea why.

A pause later, Reo continues. “It’s for this business retreat my parents are hosting. With every passing year, they just ask more and more often about if I’m seeing anyone, so… I thought… just since we did it once before… Just to get them off my back about it this once, you know?”

“Okay,” Nagi hums. “When is it?”

“Err… tomorrow.”

That’s surprising. Reo’s usually more on top of things than that, but Nagi’s not going to question it if it means he can keep dating Reo. “Ahh,” he takes the opportunity to tease, “then, Reo can’t blame me for last week.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Reo admits. “It’s hypocritical of me. I didn’t mean to, though, it’s just that the idea only came to me today.”

His finger twitches. He’s lying.

Why, Nagi has no idea. It doesn’t seem like something worth lying about, but as Reo’s eyebrows furrow, Nagi suspects there’s something more to Reo’s request than what he’s letting on. Before Nagi can inspect Reo’s expression for any more clues, he snaps out of whatever stupor he was in to blink at Nagi.

“It’s… going to be for a few days,” Reo adds. “Not just one evening. Is that… fine?”

Better than fine.

“Okay,” Nagi says mildly so Reo doesn’t catch Nagi’s enthusiasm at the prospect.

“Okay,” Reo repeats, still with that strange look on his face. “It’s not—it’s not too much of a hassle for you?”

Nagi’s lips twitch—he’s almost amused by the question. How could dating Reo ever be a hassle?

Reo’s still watching him, like he’s waiting for a response. Nagi raises his shoulders in a half-shrug for Reo to interpret as he pleases.

“Alright,” Reo says after a moment of scrutinizing Nagi’s expression. “Then, we should probably start packing…”

Nagi notices that Reo is acting strange almost as soon as they step onto the flight. He’s extraordinarily chatty, in a way different from his usual manner of speech. Nagi likes listening to Reo talk, though, so he finds that he doesn’t really mind the unfamiliarity of it.

Reo continues talking, even as they enter the taxi, and after a brief pause, he pokes Nagi in the shoulder.

“One more thing,” Reo says. “Actually listen, now.”

“I have been,” Nagi reminds him.

“Sure,” Reo responds. His sarcasm is a bit confusing to Nagi, but Reo continues before he can ask about it. “Just… one more thing about this…” He trails off to give their driver a furtive look. “Arrangement,” he eventually says. “This is a bit different than last time, I mean… this is a business retreat. So… you know what I mean?”

Nagi has no idea what Reo means. He tells Reo as much.

“Come on,” Reo says. When Nagi continues staring at him, Reo lowers his voice to a whisper. “I mean, we don’t have to be so… touchy. Like last time. It’s probably not, uh… professional?”

Nagi hopes his disappointment is hidden behind his blank stare.

“So… all you really have to do,” Reo continues, “is tell people we’re dating. We don’t… really even have to act like it.” He flashes Nagi a weak grin. “That should be easier for you anyway, right?”

Actually, it’s probably harder. Nagi figures he shouldn’t tell that to Reo, though, so he simply hums and glances outside the window.

Luckily enough for Nagi, it’s only a few minutes after stepping out of the taxi that Reo’s forced to take at least part of his words back. Reo seems oddly flabbergasted by the presence of a singular bed, but Nagi, who’s been drained by their flight, doesn’t hesitate before flopping onto the bed. Before he drifts off to sleep, he hears Reo mutter something about getting another room, and he sleepily pushes back. He succumbs to sleep before Reo comes to a decision—

—but the next morning, when he’s awoken by a gentle nudge from a familiar touch, he sees none other than Reo when he first opens his eyes.

“Good morning,” Reo says, so soft and so sweet that a part of Nagi thinks he must still be dreaming, “can you let me up, now?”

Nagi blinks a few times and finally notices that his limbs are effectively locking Reo in place. “Ah,” he hums, before letting his gaze drift back to Reo’s face. Reo’s so pretty, Nagi thinks distantly as he traces the curve of Reo’s eyes, the length of Reo’s eyelashes, the round end of Reo’s nose.

“Can you… let go?”

Nagi almost frowns. He’d much rather stay in bed and memorize every angle of Reo’s face, but with a hum, he finally pulls his arms away.

Reo busies himself with getting ready, and Nagi lazily reaches for his phone. He’s in the middle of a game when Reo pokes his head back out from the bathroom.

“You’re fine hanging out here on your own until lunch, right, Nagi?”

“Okay,” Nagi hums, and with a final farewell, Reo heads out.

Lunch finishes without much fanfare, and so does the rest of the day. The next day, Nagi’s apparently permitted to watch Reo present, so he accompanies Reo to a large conference room.

Most of what Reo talks about goes entirely over Nagi’s head, but even so, it’s obvious how much Reo thrives in the spotlight role. His voice commands the room, and when Nagi glances around, he can see everyone listening in careful rapture.

That’s my boyfriend, Nagi thinks with no small sense of pride as Reo concludes his presentation to a round of applause.

When Reo returns to his seat, Nagi leans forward.

“Good job, Reo,” he says, before leaning closer to press his lips softly against Reo’s cheek. Before he can, though, something like panic flashes through Reo’s eyes, and he minutely shakes his head. Nagi’s confused, for a moment, before he remembers Reo’s earlier words.

We don’t have to be so… touchy. Like last time. It’s probably not, uh… professional?

How disappointing, Nagi thinks dismally.

A bit put out, Nagi zones out for most of the rest of the meeting, and based on the blank, polite look on Reo’s face, Reo does too. At the close of the discussion, Reo jumps out of his seat and turns to Nagi, but before he can say anything, another voice interrupts them.

“Reo,” a woman says, with short purple hair a shade or two darker than Reo’s. It must be Reo’s mother. Now Nagi knows where Reo gets his polite, don’t-talk-to-me smile. “Can we talk?” She glances at Nagi. “Alone.”

Nagi gets the hint. Still, he glances at Reo before making any moves.

“Yeah.” Reo answers his mother before turning to Nagi. “I’ll… meet you in our room?”

Nagi’s eyes search Reo’s expression for a moment, before nodding and making for the door. That his mother wanted to have a conversation with Reo alone probably wasn’t a good sign, but Nagi trusts that Reo will be able to handle himself.

“Shit,” is the first word Reo says when he gets back to their room. “Shit.”

“Reo?” Reo looks frazzled, a hand pushed up through his bangs and his eyes wild. “What’s wrong?”

“This—fucking—fuck!”

“...Reo?”

“Sorry. Sorry, I just—I can’t—”

Nagi can, at the very least, piece together that this mania has something to do with Reo’s most recent conversation. “What did your mom say?”

Reo finally stops pacing. “She… she tried to set me up with someone.”

Nagi narrows his eyes. “What?”

“She didn’t even know—she couldn’t even tell that we were dating,” Reo explains, “so she said I should talk to—to some random girl I don’t even know, and I—” He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

Nagi doesn’t like that. Nagi doesn’t like that at all. But more than that—

"This is really important to you," Nagi says slowly, "right?"

"Yeah,” Reo admits quietly. "If we're not convincing here, it just means all of this was for nothing. My parents will just try to set me up with someone as soon as this is over..." He trails off with a sigh. "I... guess it was worth a shot, though."

Nagi would really rather not see Reo set up with other people. He hums.

"Then, Reo,” he starts, “can't we just be more convincing?"

"...in theory, yeah, but... how would we do that?" Reo shakes his head with a laugh. "It's not like we can just—make out in front of them or something."

Nagi certainly wouldn’t mind.

"We can't?"

“...what?"

Nagi doesn’t know how to respond to the bewildered look Reo is giving him. He silently turns back to his phone—not that it’s even on.

“You,” Reo starts slowly, “want to make out with me in front of my parents?"

Nagi would kind of like to make out with Reo in any way at all, but he doesn’t think Reo would be especially receptive to that, so he shrugs instead.

“If it... helps.”

"That's..." Reo starts weakly. "That—I mean, we've never—" He laughs shakily. "We've never done it before. They'd—they'd definitely be able to tell our... inexperience."

That had an easy solution, didn’t it?

"Then," Nagi says, "should we practice?"

Reo stares at him unblinkingly for one moment, then another, then another.

“Practice,” he eventually blurts out. “You want to practice?”

Reo’s incredulity is kind of making Nagi regret offering. “If it would help,” he says again, and Reo lets out a surprised laugh.

“Practice,” Reo repeats again, like he can’t fathom the meaning of the word. “Nagi, no, I—I can’t make you do that—”

Is that why Reo had such reservations? This, at least, Nagi can contest.

“You wouldn’t be making me,” he clarifies. “I’m offering.”

Reo’s silence stretches, stretches, stretches—

“Okay.”

Nagi looks up. “Okay?”

Reo opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “Okay,” he says. “Uh, yeah. Okay.” He pauses. “If you’re—if you’re really fine with it, then—yeah. Okay.”

“I am,” Nagi says, unconsciously feeling himself straighten, “fine with it.” He peers at Reo. “How should we do it?”

“You… you mean, right now?”

“Yeah?”

“Right now,” Reo mutters to himself as Nagi moves to stand in front of Reo. Nagi tilts his head to the side as he brings a hand to hover over Reo’s cheek. He hesitates.

“...can I?”

Reo looks nervous. Reo looks uncomfortable. His eyes search Nagi’s expression, but for what, Nagi doesn’t know. Reo nods. Nagi doesn’t want to make Reo more nervous or more uncomfortable, so he drops a quick, quiet, fleeting kiss on Reo’s lips before pulling back.

“Good?” he asks when Reo opens his eyes again.

Reo lets out a quiet laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, it’s… good.”

Reo looks more comfortable now. Nagi hesitates—

“...can I try again?”

“Again,” Reo repeats faintly. “Yeah.”

So Nagi kisses Reo again, but this time he doesn’t pull away in half a heartbeat—this time, he kisses Reo fully and thoroughly, and it’s fascinating, really, how quickly Nagi loses himself in it. With Reo’s lips against his, every sane thought flies out of Nagi’s head until it’s just Reo, Reo, Reo, Reo—

They separate for a breath. In that breath, Nagi catalogues everything about Reo—his eyes, blown wide with surprise, his hair, messy and astray but still a perfect frame for his face, his cheeks, flushed red—

Reo, Nagi realizes, not for the first time, is beautiful.

Reo’s hand has been resting on Nagi’s chest, but to Nagi’s dismay, Reo quickly pulls away when he realizes and sits upright with a breathless laugh. Nagi distantly wishes he could have admired Reo a bit more.

“Reo?” he prods when Reo stares into the distance in a daze.

Reo’s gaze pulls back towards him, and he begins smoothing down Nagi’s hair.

“That’s…” he starts, his voice weak. Nagi wonders if that’s his doing. “That’s… enough practice for now, right?”

“Are you sure?” Nagi blurts out before he can catch himself.

Luckily, Reo doesn’t think much of it. “Yeah—yeah, I think… for now, at least.” Nagi hopes his disappointment doesn’t show up too much on his face. “Um, maybe later—if it’s—needed, or something—maybe we can… keep… practicing?”

Nagi finds himself unreasonably pleased at the prospect.

“Then, should we be more physically affectionate in public, too?” he asks. “To be more convincing?”

“Yeah,” Reo says after a slight pause. “Whatever… whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Then,” Nagi hums, “I can hold your hand?”

“...yeah.”

“And kiss you?”

“...ah, I mean… yes?”

“Whenever I want?” Nagi tries.

Reo blinks at him. “Um… whenever you think it would be right, I guess.”

Reo wouldn’t agree to that unless he thought Nagi was a good kisser. He leans back with a satisfied hum.

“Alright,” Nagi says in a neutral tone.

Now, all he has to do is wait for the perfect moment to kiss Reo again. Nagi isn’t entirely sure if he can trust his own judgment on it, because he kind of already wants to kiss him again, but he figures an obvious sign will make itself evident when the time is right.

That perfect moment ends up being during their lunch, when Nagi catches a glimpse of frosting on Reo’s lip and decides to take care of it himself. Yes, he could have simply told Reo about its presence, but why would Nagi do that when he can kiss it away?

Reo’s subsequent blush is captivating. Nagi wonders if there’s some way to imprint it into his permanent memory.

Their day eventually ends as it began—huddled together on the bed, Reo a warm and comfortable presence beside him.

“Pur-ple bun! Is that you?”

Nagi immediately doesn’t like the man now approaching. He’d been dismayed to learn, earlier that morning, that today was their last day on the retreat, but he had sated himself with the premise of spending the entire day with Reo all to himself. Now, though, a tall and aggravating individual has waltzed in, and Nagi does not appreciate it in the slightest.

“Hello, Shidou,” Reo greets coolly after downing another shot. Nagi eyes Reo cautiously. He’s never seen Reo drink so much alcohol all at once.

“I thought you hated coming to these things,” Shidou says, having the audacity to lean closer to Reo. Nagi’s dislike of him grows. He continues conversing with Reo, but Nagi’s too distracted by the way he’s now inches away from Reo to pay attention to their dialogue. It’s only when Shidou’s attention switches to him that he tunes back into the conversation. “You’re new. Do I know you?”

“No,” Nagi says bluntly, before tugging Reo closer to him. “I’m Reo’s boyfriend.”

Shidou laughs, loud and boisterous. Nagi kind of hates him.

“Oh,” he says. “That makes sense.”

“It does?” Nagi is surprised to hear Reo ask.

“Yeah,” Shidou confirms. “You’ve been glued together since you arrived.” His grin widens. “And you should have seen how this guy was looking at me when I was talking to you.” He nods in Nagi’s direction. “It’s sweet, in a way.”

Nagi’s dislike of Shidou abates slightly. At least he was perceptive enough to notice who Reo belonged to.

The thought gives Nagi pause. Did Reo belong to him?

The shots he’d previously taken settle into his skin and muddy his thoughts. Of course, Nagi thinks, why wouldn’t he?

“Quite a catch,” Shidou continues with a low whistle. “Purple bun here’s the whole package—talented and hot.”

Nagi quite agrees.

“Yeah,” Nagi eventually murmurs. “Reo’s amazing.” He brushes his lips over Reo’s forehead. “I’m really lucky to be with him.”

Nagi’s surprised to see Reo pull away after Nagi’s words. He watches as Reo flashes a beatific smile at Shidou.

“It was very nice to run into you,” Reo says curtly. “I’m sorry, but we actually need to leave now, we have an appointment with…” He trails off. Nagi blinks at him. “We have an appointment.”

We do? Nagi catches himself before he asks.

“An appointment,” Shidou repeats with a laugh. “An appointment, huh? Yeah, I’m sure that’ll keep you… preoccupied. Have fun at your appointment, then!”

Nagi doesn’t know what to think of his insinuation. On one hand, he would much rather the appointment would be one of a nature that Shidou is suggesting. On the other hand, Nagi doesn’t really like Shidou.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to interact with him any longer—Reo tugs on his arm and pulls him away, back in the direction of their hotel room. Nagi tilts his head to the side. The abrupt departure isn’t unwanted, but it is a bit unusual.

“Reo?”

“Sorry,” Reo murmurs. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t really want to…” He shakes his head. “Talking. Small talk. Wasn’t really in the mood. And Shidou is, uh… well, you saw him.”

“Back to the room, then?” Nagi asks. Reo nods.

“Yeah, let’s.”

Nagi’s thoughts buzz as they walk back to the hotel room. Something about Shidou’s words nag at his skin, and it makes him antsy, fidgety. He glances at his hand in Reo’s, but for a moment, Nagi thinks it’s not enough.

And that’s the only explanation Nagi has for why he pulls Reo into a deep kiss as soon as the door to their room closes behind them. Reo pulls back after a few moments, blinking at Nagi.

“What… what are you doing?”

What do you think I’m doing? Nagi kind of wants to ask—

—but as he searches Reo’s expression, he hazily remembers that there’s that one word, a magic key. If he says it, Reo will agree.

“Practice,” he blurts out.

“Oh,” Reo says with a blink. “Right.” He scrutinizes Nagi’s expression. “Practice.”

A magic key, indeed.

Nagi wastes no time bringing Reo close again—maybe it’s the lingering effects of the alcohol, maybe it’s Nagi’s own desire, maybe it’s something of both—but Nagi has a wild, feverish urge to kiss Reo senseless, and so he proceeds to do just that.

Reo doesn’t protest—actually, Nagi is pretty sure he’s enjoying it. He must be, or Nagi wouldn’t feel a half-smile against his mouth, he must be, or Nagi wouldn’t hear a breathless Seishiro against his skin, he must be, or Nagi wouldn’t have any of this at all.

Ah, Nagi thinks, opening his eyes as Reo smiles against his mouth, his eyelashes tickling Nagi’s cheek. Reo’s so pretty like this. Reo’s so pretty, and Nagi likes him so much that it makes his chest tighten, and it should be uncomfortable, but it’s not, because it’s Reo. Nothing with Reo is uncomfortable, nothing with Reo is a pain, and especially not this. Nagi thinks he could do this forever.

Mine, Nagi claims with every press to all the corners and curves of Reo’s mouth; mine, Nagi claims with every bit of skin his fingertips brush as they wander Reo’s arms and neck and shoulders and hips; mine, Nagi promises in the name he murmurs into Reo’s mouth.

They separate for a moment—just one, but one too long. In that brief reprieve, Nagi craves for more.

I love you, Nagi thinks, lost and dazed in the sensation of Reo’s lips against his. I love you, I love you, I love you, I want you, I love you—

Reo pushes against him, a little more forceful than normal. Nagi takes it and turns it over in his hands, returning the kiss as something more gentle, more soft. Reo deserves only the best.

Reo’s breaths are coming out shorter, faster. When Nagi opens his eyes, he’s a bit taken aback to see Reo’s eyebrows tight and furrowed.

“Reo,” Nagi breaks away to say, even as Reo chases his lips. “Reo,” he repeats when he sees something begin to well at the corners of Reo’s eyes. “You’re… crying.”

That makes Reo pull away. “What?” He brings a hand to his cheek. “No, I’m no—” His words cut off sharply. “Oh.”

Nagi is terrified. “Reo?”

Reo bites his bottom lip. “Shit,” he mutters, even as fat, thick tears begin rolling down his cheeks. He exhales shakily. “Shit.”

The tears are out in full force now. He is falling apart within Nagi’s hands, and Nagi has no idea how to put him back together. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so helpless before in his life.

“...Reo?”

“Well,” Reo says as he swipes aggressively at his eyes. “This is—” His voice breaks on a sob. “This is embarrassing.”

Nagi thought Reo was enjoying it. Nagi thought Reo liked it. Had he—

“Reo, what happened?” Reo shakes his head. Nagi feels something dreadful build in his stomach. “Did I…?”

“No,” Reo interrupts through his tears. “No, it’s not you—it’s not you, Seishiro.”

His words make Nagi mildly relieved, but Reo is still crying, and Nagi is still helpless. He brings his hands to Reo’s face in what he hopes is a soothing gesture, and lightly brushes at the cascading tears. Even like this, Reo is still pretty.

“Reo,” Nagi murmurs. “Don’t cry. Did something happen?”

“It’s just—” Reo hiccups. “It’s just the alcohol.”

Nagi is mostly unconvinced by the excuse, but he had seen how many shots Reo had downed, and so, it’s not entirely impossible. What’s more important now, anyway, is making sure Reo is okay. Carefully, slowly, he places a kiss on Reo’s nose, then his cheek, then his other cheek, then his forehead. Reo’s tears are salty on his lips.

“Don’t cry, Reo,” he murmurs into Reo’s skin.

Reo inhales shakily, exhales shakily. Inhales shakily, exhales shakily. He brings a hand to rest against Nagi’s own and watches him with dry, defeated eyes.

“I…”

“Do you want anything?” Nagi offers immediately. “...water?”

Reo’s gaze stays on him for a moment longer before he dips his head.

“...water would be good.”

“Hey, Seishiro?”

“Hm?”

“I think we should end this.”

“...what?”

“I think we should end this,” Reo repeats to Nagi’s complete dismay. He’d thought the retreat had gone well—well enough that Reo would want him as a real boyfriend. Where had he gone wrong? “I mean, there’s no reason for us to pretend anymore, right? We only… have this arrangement to convince other people, but—I mean—it’s not like there’s anyone left we have to convince, so we can… you know.”

“No,” Nagi blurts out without thinking.

“...no?”

“No,” Nagi repeats, even though Reo is obviously right. He can’t end it here, not like this, not when he still hasn’t convinced Reo. "We have another event soon—we’re, hm, announcing the release date of our game. There’s a big function.” That is a bold and blatant lie. Somehow, Reo doesn’t pick up on it. “Everyone’ll be… suspicious if you don’t show up.”

“When is it?”

“Some time next week,” Nagi bluffs, although he mentally curses himself as soon as he says the words out loud. He should have said next month to buy himself more time. It’s too late to take it back now, though.

Reo watches him for a moment, then another, then another, before sighing.

“Okay.”

Nagi’s heart leaps into his throat. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Reo repeats. “It’s just—another week, right?”

Nagi nods.

And the week after and the week after, he doesn’t say.

Now, all he had to do was convince Ego to make an event for next week…

It takes some convincing and negotiation and bribes and promises of overtime, but Nagi does eventually make sure the event is happening. In the meantime, he continues being the perfect boyfriend to Reo. He crashes Reo’s bedroom, for nothing than it felt like the most natural thing in the world to wake up to Reo’s pretty face every morning, he makes sure to compliment Reo frequently, he makes sure to kiss Reo sweetly when he least expects it—

—the problem is, none of it seems to be working.

At least, it’s not working in Nagi’s conscious world. In the subconscious space between wakefulness and slumber, Nagi feels a familiar pair of lips on his forehead and the words I love you, Seishiro, in the voice of Nagi’s favorite sound in the world.

I love you too, Reo, he mumbles to dream-Reo.

And maybe it is that lovely fantasy that makes Nagi go off-script the next day, on a stage in front of hundreds, but really—on a stage in front of Reo.

“I love you, Reo.”

Something in Reo’s expression slips. Nagi can do nothing as he watches Reo walk away. It’s only a blink later that he realizes he’s still on a stage.

“Ah—uh, that’s the—end of my speech. Thank you,” he concludes quickly. As soon as he can, he hurries off stage, scanning the area for any sign of a familiar purple. He finds it, not among the crowd, but outside, on one of the balconies.

“Reo,” Nagi calls as he approaches. When Reo makes no move to respond, he lifts a hand to tap Reo on the shoulder. “Reo—”

“You make me sick.”

Nagi’s hand stills.

“...what?”

“I don’t—” Reo laughs, an awful, wretched, bitter sound. It’s wrong, all wrong. “I don’t get it.” He finally turns to face Nagi, and his expression—wide-eyed, desperate, pained—makes Nagi’s eyes widen. “How can you do this?”

Nagi’s eyes flit all over Reo, trying to catalog each flicker in Reo’s expression, each quiver of his hands. “How can I do…?”

“How can you do this?” Reo asks again, his voice increasing in pitch. He laughs again, but his breath catches, and all Nagi can remember is the sound of Reo’s sobs as he had fallen apart in Nagi’s hands the week prior. He had been helpless then, and he is helpless now. “How can you do any of this? How can you touch me like you mean it, how can you kiss me like you mean it, how can you tell me that you love me—” Reo’s voice catches, “like you mean it, Seishiro?”

“Reo,” Nagi starts to say. I mean it, he opens his mouth to say. I mean it, all of it, all for you, Reo.

Reo doesn’t let him speak. “It’s—it’s unbelievable.” He shakes his head. “It’s unbelievable, really!” Nagi’s nails dig into the skin of his palm. “I know—I’ve known this is all just some—some sort of game to you—”

Nagi stills. A game? Is that what Reo has been thinking, all this time?

“—that I’m just some sort of prop to make your life easier—less of a hassle—”

That’s not fair, Nagi thinks. That’s not fair, Reo.

Reo’s still speaking, but this time, it’s Nagi that interrupts. “Don’t.” Reo stops. “Don’t say that. You know it’s not true.” He takes a step forward before he even realizes he’s moving. “A game? You think this is a game to me?”

He shouldn’t be getting frustrated—he can’t be getting frustrated, not when Reo is looking at him with such pain in his eyes, pain Nagi cannot understand—but Nagi’s words hit Reo, and he can only watch as Reo’s gaze hardens.

“I’m not stupid, Nagi,” Reo spits out. “I know this, all of this—I know I don't actually matter to you.”

The words are so ludicrous that Nagi’s next words slip out unconsciously.

“You are,” is his dismal realization. “You are stupid.”

“What?” Reo snarls. “Fuck you!”

Nagi’s doing this all wrong. “Reo,” he tries with a gentle hand on Reo’s wrist. “Don't pretend like you haven’t enjoyed this.” It’s more a plea than a command. Reo has to have enjoyed this. If he hasn’t, it means Nagi’s made up everything in his own mind. "Don't pretend like you don’t want this—” Because if Reo doesn’t want this, it means Nagi’s been taking advantage of Reo this whole time—

“Fuck you," Reo hisses, yanking his hand away from Nagi’s as if burned. “Enjoyed what? Being used?”

Ah, Nagi thinks. I’ve made a mistake.

“God, I must have been making your life so damn easy,” Reo continues, each word tearing away at Nagi’s skin. “You think I fucking want this? You think I want you?”

In all the movies Nagi’s seen, he’s always thought the actors had exaggerated the pain of heartbreak. Here and now, as he feels pieces of his chest splintering and falling away, he thinks it might not have been an exaggeration after all. He has never felt a pain of this type before, and it takes all in him to draw in a shaky inhale.

“Reo,” he starts quietly. I’m sorry, he wants to say, he needs to say. I’m sorry, Reo, I’m sorry, forgive me—

“Don’t,” Reo interrupts, his voice quiet and defeated. “Nagi, please, just—”

When had Reo stopped calling him Seishiro?

“This has lasted too long already. Please, let’s just—end it.”

It’s an obvious, straightforward request with an obvious, straightforward answer. But something in Nagi resists, something similar to that unfamiliar desperation from before, and although Nagi knows it to be a terrible idea, he opens his mouth—

“But… I have, um… another event next week—”

“You can’t be serious,” Reo interrupts. Nagi’s mouth snaps shut. “So you really were going to string me along forever. That was your plan, was it?”

This is wildly spiraling out of Nagi’s control. All he can do is shake his head helplessly. “No, Reo, that’s not—”

“I’m done,” Reo interrupts before he can try to explain. “You hear me? I’m done.”

Fear—desperate, terrible, cloying fear—hooks its claws into Nagi’s chest and tugs. Nagi opens his mouth to say something, anything, but before he can, Reo tugs him forward with the collar of his shirt to harshly press his lips against Nagi’s.

It’s the first time Reo has initiated a kiss. Nagi is so surprised he doesn’t remember to reciprocate until Reo’s already pulled back. Nagi’s lips sting more from the absence than the kiss.

"I guess you finally stopped pretending.”

I was never pretending, Nagi wants to say, but how can he possibly say it now? Now, after Reo’s told him directly how he feels?

But, the kiss—

"I don't... understand you, Reo," Nagi murmurs quietly. "You say you don't want me, and then you kiss me. I..."

"I didn't mean it.”

And there was the answer to all of Nagi’s questions, wasn’t it? Reo didn’t mean it, had never meant it, and still, Nagi had eagerly taken advantage of him.

Reo was right. Nagi should make him sick.

"So don't worry about it,” Reo’s still saying. “Let’s go home?”

He gives Nagi a bitter smile before turning to leave.

The cold around him grows a bit colder.

I’m sorry, Nagi thinks as they enter the taxi.

I’m sorry, Nagi thinks as they enter their apartment.

I’m sorry, Nagi thinks as he watches Reo furiously shrug off his coat and hairtie.

I’m sorry, Nagi thinks as Reo turns over in his bed.

“Reo,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Get out.”

“...what?”

“This is my room. Get out.”

I’m sorry, Nagi thinks as he leaves.

I’m sorry.

Chapter Text

It takes Reo a little longer than normal to wake up. When he does, it’s only because he’s cold. It takes a few blinks for him to realize it’s the first time in weeks he’s woken up alone.

The thought immediately puts him in a foul mood, and so it’s with an annoyed huff that he tosses his bedsheets aside and sits up.

The apartment is silent. That isn’t much news for concern.

Nagi’s bedroom, when Reo works up the nerve to peek inside the ajar door, is empty. That is.

Reo stares at the neatly made bed that clearly hasn’t seen any use in at least a week. When he’s finally able to tear his eyes away, he glances around the rest of the room, as if he can expect to find Nagi crouched in a corner on his phone.

“...Nagi?”

The only response is the echo of Reo’s own voice. Reo bites the inside of his own cheek.

Fuck, he thinks as he begins pacing the length of their apartment, fuck, fuck, fuck—

He’d overreacted the night before, he knew he had. He’d known it had been bad, but—

—he didn’t think it would be this bad.

Certainly not bad enough for Nagi to leave their apartment entirely.

“Fuck,” Reo says out loud to the empty space. He eventually storms back into his own bedroom, crouching to fumble with his coat, still crumpled on one end of the room, until he finds his phone in one of the pockets. He taps at the screen, but is so surprised by the photo that blooms to life on it that he immediately slams it face down into the floor.

His wallpaper’s still that stupid, stupid picture of Nagi he’d taken impulsively all those weeks ago. Why hadn’t he changed it yet?

Eventually, Reo works up the nerve to face his phone again. He swipes away from the wallpaper as fast as he can, and resolutely ignores the way his gaze may or may not linger on the photo before he does. With some hesitation, he taps on his messages. There’s only one from Nagi, from last night.

from nagi <3 <3 <3 11:17 P.M.
im sorry

Reo frowns. There it was again. Nagi had apologized to him last night, too, but Reo had been too much of a mess to barely understand what Nagi was talking about, much less respond properly. Now, in a somewhat more stable state of mind, Reo can confidently say that he still has no idea what Nagi’s apologizing for. It was Reo who had destroyed the easy peace of their arrangement, and it was Reo who should be apologizing.

His fingers hover over the keyboard of his phone.

Where are you?

Delete.

I’m sorry. 

Delete.

Are you safe?

Delete.

I miss you.

Delete.

Reo resists the urge to throw his phone across the room and instead puts his head between his knees and groans. He couldn’t very well just send a text, as if everything was normal, as if Reo hadn’t ruined everything—

His phone buzzes. This time, Reo really almost does throw his phone across the room.

A few moments of silent staring later, Reo peeks at the message.

from Hyoma Chigiri 8:13 A.M.
can you come over

Reo stares at the message for a few moments longer before finally remembering that he has to respond.

to Hyoma Chigiri 8:13 A.M.
It’s kind of a bad time

from Hyoma Chigiri 8:14 A.M.
they delivered this package to our apartment
it’s got your address on it though

That’s… odd. Chigiri and Kunigami live a good fifteen minutes from Reo’s apartment, and Reo’s never had a shipment meant for him reach his friends’ place of residence. Plus, Reo can’t remember the last time he ordered anything online at all. Chigiri, though, isn’t the type to make up such a lie, so he sighs and taps out a response.

to Hyoma Chigiri 8:15 A.M.
Can you just come over and drop it off?

from Hyoma Chigiri 8:15 A.M.
it’s too heavy

Too heavy? Reo thinks, bewildered. Maybe it was something his parents had shipped over. Reo wouldn’t put it past them.

With a sigh, he grabs his coat and heads for the door.

"...is this the package you were talking about?"

Chigiri clicks his tongue. "Well, it is pretty heavy."

"By ‘it,’ you mean Nagi, right?" Reo asks carefully. "Just checking."

Chigiri gives him a flat look in response. Reo glances back at Nagi, currently sprawled over Chigiri and Kunigami’s much too small couch. He’s sound asleep, and his peaceful expression is so familiar it makes Reo’s chest tighten.

“...I don’t know why you made me come here,” Reo eventually admits, turning back to Chigiri. Chigiri’s stare turns incredulous.

“Last I checked, he’s your roommate,” he says wryly. He shakes his head. “He just showed up—out of nowhere—last night, and honestly, I didn’t want to let him in, but Kunigami felt bad, so…” He waves a hand in the air. “Nagi didn’t even say anything. Just showed up and passed out on the couch. No dinner or anything.” He eyes Reo. “So… are you going to tell me what happened?”

Reo bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s… a long story.”

“It’s been three weeks since you called me about finding Nagi a girlfriend. Three weeks,” Chigiri stresses, before waving a hand between Reo and Nagi. “How did you guys end up like… this?”

“It’s only been three weeks?” Reo asks weakly in lieu of a response. Chigiri’s eyes bug out. Before he can continue yelling at Reo, Reo puts a hand up. “I’ll… tell you later. For now…” He trails off. “I don’t even know if Nagi wants to come back.”

“Well, he sure as hell can’t stay here,” Chigiri says bluntly.

Chigiri is leaving him little choice. Reo steals one final look at Nagi’s slumbering expression before sighing.

“Fine,” he concedes. “I’ll take him home.”

Chigiri’s shoulders slump with relief. “Good. I’ll wake him up to give him the good news…” He trails off as Reo quietly takes Nagi into his arms, careful not to jostle him around. “...or you can just bridal carry him. Sure.”

Reo frowns at Chigiri over the sleeping Nagi in his arms. “I don’t want to wake him up.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Chigiri mutters, apparently to himself, before shaking his head and opening the door for Reo. “Well, see you. You owe me a story later.”

A story. That made it sound like something with a happy ending.

Reo gives Chigiri a weak smile. “Sure. See you.”

Reo manages to buckle Nagi into the seat in the back without waking him up, and maybe that’s what gives Reo the courage to barely, lightly brush his thumb against the corner of Nagi’s eye to swipe away the sleep dust.

It’s for a single moment, yet in that single moment, Nagi leans forward, still asleep, into Reo’s touch. Reo’s chest tightens more.

“Okay, Nagi,” Reo murmurs. “Let’s go home.”

Once he’s tucked Nagi into bed, Reo heads for the kitchen—he needs a mindless task to keep his hands busy; otherwise, he’ll wear a hole in the floor with his continued pacing. He’s nearly finished with a bowl of soup when Nagi finally pads in, still in the same clothes as the night before, with his hair sticking up every which way. Reo resists the urge to reach over and smooth down the flyaway strands.

“Hello,” he greets, quiet and awkward.

Nagi doesn’t say anything. He’s not even looking at Reo. Instead, he’s looking at—

Reo looks down at himself. Kiss the cook, his apron reads.

Reo’s skin flushes. He’d put it on mindlessly as part of the preparation process, but now—

He quickly takes it off and puts it aside before busying himself with the stove. The soup is probably a little—very—undercooked, but Reo feels a bit all over the place with Nagi’s silent gaze on him, so he’s not really thinking when he ladles the soup out into a bowl.

“Here,” he offers without looking Nagi in the eye. “Chigiri told me you hadn’t eaten, so I thought you… might be hungry…” He trails off.

Nagi still hasn’t said a word. Reo is getting antsy.

But no—it made sense. Nagi was probably expecting Reo to be the first to address the elephant in the room. So Reo clears his throat—

“I’m sorry.”

Reo pauses.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Nagi says, and now, he’s looking at Reo. “Reo, I’m so sorry.”

Reo’s eyebrows furrow. “Yeah—yeah, I know,” he starts slowly. “But… what…” He shakes his head. “What are you apologizing for? If anything, I should—” He cuts himself off with a cough. Not the right time.

“You said… you said you didn’t want this.” Nagi doesn’t blink as he meets Reo’s eyes. “I didn’t know—I didn’t know, Reo. I would have never—never forced you into this if I knew—”

“Forced?” Reo has to interrupt, eyes wide. “Nagi, you think you… forced me?”

“You said you didn’t want this,” Nagi repeats. His gaze drops. “I’m sorry—”

“No,” Reo blurts out, shaking his head. “No, Nagi, no, you never—you never did any of that. You didn’t force me into anything, you didn’t make me do anything I didn’t—,” want to do, Reo almost says before catching himself, “—agree to doing.”

Nagi blinks, evidently still skeptical. “Really?”

“Really,” Reo insists. “Is that—is that why you keep apologizing?” Nagi’s gaze dips away again. “Is… that why you left?”

Reo assumes Nagi’s silence is assent. His own shoulders drop with something like relief. If it was only this misunderstanding—if Reo’s own outburst wasn’t the primary problem—maybe Reo could still salvage this.

“Oh, Nagi,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to apologize for that. I agreed to everything. You know that.”

Nagi meets Reo’s eyes for only a second before glancing away. “That’s not all,” he murmurs.

Reo’s smile freezes. “...that’s not all?”

“I… lied. I lied, in the beginning.”

Something begins to twist in Reo’s stomach. “What?”

“...the office party.”

“...what about it?”

“I didn’t… actually need a plus one.” Nagi’s fingers are tapping at the counter’s surface. “There was no actual requirement.” His head dips. “For this most recent event, too.”

Something like a chill begins to blanket Reo’s skin. “You… made it all up?”

Nagi stays quiet. The chill spreads.

“What,” Reo asks quietly, “just to fuck with me?”

Nagi’s eyes widen at that. “No, I—”

Reo can only think of one reason Nagi would do such a thing.

“Was it funny?” Reo interrupts. “Is that why you did it?”

“Reo—”

“Just—whatever,” Reo stops him by holding up a hand before bringing it to pinch the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t have another outburst like yesterday, not again. So what if the entire premise of their fake arrangement was, ironically enough, fake, too? That just confirmed that this was nothing but a game to Nagi. It wasn’t like Reo didn’t know that already. “You’ve said… enough. You apologized—apology accepted. Can we move on?”

“Reo, you’re not listening.”

Reo gives him an appalled stare. “I’m not listening? Nagi, what else is there to say?” He shakes his head. “I’m trying to move on from this—why can’t you just drop it? I get it, you lied about everything and you feel bad. Great. What else do you want?”

“I did it because I’m in love with you, Reo.”

Reo wills himself to keep a straight face at those cruel, corrosive words that Nagi throws around so casually. “That’s not funny, Nagi,” he says quietly.

“I mean it,” Nagi insists, and Reo shakes his head.

“No, you don’t.”

“See, Reo?” Nagi says quietly. “You're not listening.”

“You’re not saying anything worth listening to,” Reo blurts out, although he regrets the words as soon as he says them. He pulls back into himself.

“...you don’t think me saying that I love you is worth listening to?”

“Not if you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“This entire thing—all of this,” Reo waves his hands around, “has been a lie. How is this any different?”

“Reo,” Nagi says, and a part of Reo thinks he sounds a little helpless, “I can't—Reo, I can't remember a time I haven't loved you."

"Stop," Reo says harshly. "Stop saying things you think will make this better—stop saying things you think I want to hear. I don't want to hear this."

He does, he does, he does, he desperately does, but not like this.

"I don't care if you don't want to hear it," Nagi bites out, "but it's true, Reo. Whether you like it or not." Reo sees something harden in Nagi's eyes before he looks away. "If the idea—" Nagi stops. He exhales shortly. "If the idea that I love you is so hard to believe, then—"

“You can’t,” Reo finally interrupts. “You can’t love me.”

“...Reo?”

Reo lets out a breathless laugh. “You can’t love me,” he repeats, “because if you loved me, you would—you would say it.”

“I’m saying it right now.”

Reo shakes his head. “No,” he says, a bit desperate and a bit terrified, “you would have said it when we went on our first—our first date. You would have said it when we had our first kiss—” Belatedly, Reo realizes it’s the first time he hasn’t called it practice. “—and you would have said it back when I said it to you—”

He cuts himself off. Nagi’s eyes widen.

“You told me you… loved me?”

It’s Reo’s turn to look away.

“...when?”

“...”

“Reo, when?”

“The night before yesterday,” Reo blurts out. “Before I went to sleep. And—and if you loved me, if you actually loved me, you would have said something instead of—instead of making fun of my words the next day by pretending to say them yourself.”

Nagi’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. “I… thought that was a dream.”

Reo blinks. “What?”

“I heard you say it, but—I thought it was a dream.”

Reo scoffs, disbelieving. “Sure,” he agrees sarcastically. “How many of your dreams feature me confessing my love to you?”

“All of them.”

Reo blinks again at the immediate response. “What does that mean?”

“Reo, don’t you understand?” Nagi tries. “You’re—you’re all I think about. In the day, in the night, it’s only ever you. I wasn’t making fun of you that night—I was—” Nagi lets out a sigh. “I was telling the truth.” He glances at Reo through his bangs. “I would have told you earlier, but I didn’t think you… wanted to hear it.”

Nagi’s words are making Reo near lightheaded. He focuses on the last statement.

“...why would you think that?”

Nagi shrugs morosely. “I asked you out on a date, and you tried to set me up with a bunch of random people. You asked me out, but only as a fake date. I wanted to kiss you, and you called it practice.”

Reo’s grip on the counter tightens. “And you’re telling me you… wanted that? All of that?” He hesitates. “It… wasn’t fake for you?”

“I love you, Reo,” Nagi says simply. “It never was.”

Reo feels like the breath has been knocked from his lungs entirely.

“So you made up all of those events,” he starts weakly, “just so you had an excuse to keep dating me?”

Nagi stares into his soup. “I thought,” he mumbles, “if I was a good enough fake boyfriend, you’d want me as a real one.”

Reo is vaguely convinced he’s living out the events of a dream, but this is one he’d rather not wake up from.

“I do,” Reo finally lets himself say. “Nagi, I do.”

Nagi looks up. “What?”

“I do,” Reo repeats, and with the energy buzzing under his skin, he has enough courage to round the corner until he’s a mere few feet away from Nagi. “Fuck, Nagi, of course I want you.” Nagi watches him with wide eyes as Reo finally lets himself run his fingers through Nagi’s hair. “I’ve—I’ve wanted you this entire time,” he admits, and he is unprepared for the way Nagi’s expression shifts at his words—a slight widening of his eyes, his mouth dropping into a small “o,” his cheeks painted with the lightest shade of pink. “I never said anything because—I thought—none of this meant anything to you—”

“It means everything to me.”

Reo lets out a breathless laugh and brings his hands to Nagi’s cheeks. “I know,” he says. “I know that now. But I was—I was torturing myself with this—this idea that you didn’t care, that it was just—convenient—” He shakes his head. “I was just… trying to protect myself, I think.” He brushes his thumbs over Nagi’s cheeks. “But I want this,” he murmurs. “I want you.”

Nagi’s skin is warm under his hands. “I love you, Reo,” Nagi says quietly. “Do you believe me?”

Yes is on the tip of Reo’s tongue. He swallows it back.

“...say it again?”

“I love you, Reo,” Nagi says immediately. He searches Reo’s expression, and slowly, he brings his lips to Reo’s forehead. “I love you,” he murmurs, before bringing his lips to Reo’s cheek. “I love you.” Reo’s nose. “I love you.” Reo’s other cheek. “I love you.” Reo’s forehead again. “I love you.”

Every place Nagi’s lips touch his skin, Reo imagines it blooming with color—it’s the only way he can think to describe the feeling that shoots through his blood. Nagi covers his face with short, sweet kisses and murmured I love yous, and Reo thinks to himself—

—can I have this?

Nagi pulls away. His hands still cup Reo’s face. “Reo,” he starts. “I lo—”

Reo steals the rest of his words out of his mouth, surging forward to claim Nagi’s mouth in a deep kiss.

Yes, Reo decides, I can have this.

And everything’s familiar—that half-smile against his mouth, that way Nagi cards a hand through his hair with another hand on his waist, that murmur of Reo, Reo, Reo between breaths—

—everything’s familiar, but better, because this is real. This is real, and Reo has it.

This time, he’s not letting go.

Reo, or maybe Nagi, or maybe both of them, though, are apparently a little too enthusiastic, because the chair Nagi was sitting on wobbles, and before either of them can pull back to stabilize it, they’re already falling, and Reo lands squarely on top of Nagi, with his hands bracketing either side of Nagi’s head. Nagi, with his back to the floor, blinks up at Reo with wide eyes.

"Ow," he says belatedly, and the mildly bewildered look on Nagi’s face is so endearing to Reo that he can't help the ugly and unattractive snort that slips out of him that quickly turns into unrestrained laughter. When his laughter finally dies down, he notices the look in Nagi's eyes—

—now, he realizes, it must be love.

"I... never said it back," Reo murmurs. "I love you, too, by the way."

Nagi’s eyes widen. “Reo,” he murmurs. “I…”

“Enough talking,” Reo decides, but it’s with a smile that he presses his lips to Nagi’s again, and Reo feels the murmured I love you against that smile, anyway.

They’re eventually rudely interrupted, though, by a shrieking noise from Reo’s phone. It’s with great reluctance that Reo pulls away and grapples for his phone. Nagi finally sits up.

“Oh,” Reo says upon seeing the caller ID. “It’s Chigiri.” A smile begins playing on his lips, and he tilts his head to glance at Nagi. “I think you should be here for this.”

After all, he had a story to tell.