Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The worst feeling in the world was waking up on your own, then immediately realizing you should have woken up to an alarm.

"SHIT."

You ripped the blankets off yourself, burying the boy sleeping next to you in a mess of your sheets until he woke up with a snort. Due to your urgency, you hadn't realized how much closer together the two of you had migrated during the night; Ichimatsu, on the other hand, was relieved you hadn't noticed he'd woken up in your bed.

"...oi."

"I forgot to plug it in last night," you panicked, pressing the power button on your flip-phone over and over to no avail.

"Oi."

"Stupid, stupid, stupid--"

With shaking hands, you tried to plug your phone into the wall. The charger didn't fit into your port.

You flipped the cable over. It still didn't fit.

You twisted the cable into its original position, and it finally, finally plugged in.

Setting your phone down, you spun around in preparation to bolt across the room, to make your hasty way towards your closet so you could haphazardly toss some work-appropriate clothing on--but instead, you smashed face-first into the fluffy warmth of a comfy purple sweatshirt.

"Calm down," Ichimatsu said sternly. "Is freaking out like this going to help?"

"No, but--I was supposed to leave for work ten minutes ago, I'm going to miss my train for sure--I always plug my phone in at night, why am I such an idiot, I'm going to be so late--"

You immediately felt a pair of arms wrap around you.

Ichimatsu held you close before stroking the back of your head.

"There, there," he cooed.

You slouched in his embrace. "I'm not a cat, Ichimatsu..."

"Ah, sorry. Should I stop?"

After a moment of consideration, you shook your head against him. He was calm when he was trying to comfort you, and the feeling was contagious; somehow, what he was doing now helped silence your mental rambling.

Eventually, you were brave enough to return his hug.

He didn't tense up at your touch as much as before.

Several minutes later, the two of you found yourselves kneeling in front of one another on your living room floor. With your cell phone still plugged into the wall, you hovered over the 'call' button, an instant away from connecting to your workplace.

You've never called in sick before.

Would they even believe you if you said you were feeling unwell? Were you calling in soon enough to give them time to find a replacement? What if they got mad about your absence, what would you do then? You really couldn't afford to lose this job, especially not over something as ridiculous as calling in absent because you'd woken up too late and were far too embarrassed to just say so.

Your nervous eyes flickered back to Ichimatsu's. He nodded at you, his hands folded in his lap.

(Guess you were doing this, after all.)

You hit the dial button. Each low tone that rang in your ear made your stomach twist and turn.

The familiar voice of your manager lilted from the speaker as he lazily recited your store's standard phone greeting.

"Hey, hi, it's me," you squeaked, still not breaking eye contact with Ichimatsu. "Yeah, um, I--I'm calling in to let you know that I...won't be in today. Yeah. Why…?"

Ichimatsu pressed a hand against his forehead to indicate a fever.

You shook your head. You'd actually gone into work with fevers before, and a fever severe enough to keep you home would've probably warranted a hospital visit, which meant they'd ask for a doctor's note.

So Ichimatsu lowered his hand to cover his mouth, pretending to throw up.

You shook your head more vigorously, afraid your boss might mistake that for just being hungover. Even though you never drank that much, some of your good-for-nothing coworkers would regularly call in sick over the weekend with suspiciously similar symptoms.

Finally, Ichimatsu wrapped his arms around his stomach, exaggerating the escalating game of charades as he collapsed to the floor, twitching.

"I caught an awful stomach bug yesterday," you said, sounding solemn. "I thought I'd be better after a good night's rest, but I--I'm in and out of the bathroom, constantly. I think it might be food poisoning. Yeah. Yeah, it's no fun at all. Yes, I've got some medicine, thank you for asking. Yes. Thank you so much. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. Yes, thank you. I will. Goodbye."

You hung up the phone, feeling your anxiety ebb as soon as you disconnected.

Ichimatsu reclaimed his former position, kneeling in front of you with his back slouched.

"I can't believe I just did that," you whispered in disbelief. "What did you just make me do?"

The amused look on his face made the blood drain from yours. "Don't look at me, you're the one that told your boss you can't stop shitting."

You buried your face in your hands. "Oh my god."

Ichimatsu shuffled closer to you, and rubbed your back.

"There, there."

Soon after, you found yourself ambling around your tiny apartment kitchen, preparing a small breakfast for two from whatever miscellaneous ingredients you had lying around. You prepared some fresh rice, laid out some slivers of dried fish into each of your bowls, and peeled and sliced some apples into a separate plate.

Balancing dishes of breakfast over into the next room, you caught Ichimatsu napping; he was resting his head on his arms, folded atop your living room table. He was probably still tired, you figured, as his sleep had been rudely interrupted by your sudden bout of panic.

You realized this was the first time a boy had ever spent the night at your place, platonic or otherwise.

Kneeling to set the dishes down on the table, you were glad he couldn't see how red you'd suddenly turned at the thought.

Ding dong.

The way Ichimatsu straightened up at once and fixated on the door was undeniably cat-like.

"Who's that?" he asked.

"I--I don't know," you stammered, staring at your front door.

"Family?"

"None of them live around here."

"Friends of yours?"

"I don't have any friends." Rising to your feet, you wiped your hands on the washcloth draped over your arm. "It must be someone from work, someone who thinks I'm sick."

Ding dong. Ding dong.

Yawning, Ichimatsu stood up and tossed his blanket over your shoulders. "So go be sick."

"Right."

You answered the front door with a heavy blanket wrapped around yourself, and you tried to look as miserable as you possibly could...

...only to be greeted by a very familiar face, smiling from ear to ear.

"Good morning!!" Jyushimatsu beamed.

You blinked. "G...good morning."

"Is Ichimatsu-niisan here with you?"

"Yeah, he's just over--"

"Ah, Jyushimatsu." Ichimatsu was reseated at your living room table, chopsticks in hand as he munched on his breakfast. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Ichimatsu-niisan! It's Sunday! You promised to help me out with the prizes today, remember?"

"Oh, right. I lost track of time, sorry. We can get going after breakfast."

"Sure thing!"

With how nonchalant Ichimatsu was about his younger brother showing up out of nowhere, you did your best to mirror the casual attitude and to keep yourself from asking questions. At first, you were surprised Jyushimatsu knew where you lived in the first place, but you rationalized it by realizing that if you were spending the night at someone's house, you would've let someone close know the address you were staying at, as well.

(Maybe Ichimatsu was afraid you were the serial killer, all along.)

Glancing at you, Jyushimatsu leaned over to peek around your shoulder. "May I come in?"

"Oh! Of course!" You moved aside. "How rude of me--come in, come in. Can I get you something to eat, too?"

"No, thank you! I wanna get going as soon as possible!" He flounced happily as he entered your apartment, making his way straight for his brother. "Is Momo-kun coming with us, too, Ichimatsu-niisan?"

Ichimatsu froze mid-chew.

"'Momo-kun'?" you snickered. "Is that the name of one of your cats, Ichimatsu?"

Jyushimatsu looked back at you, tilting his head to the side in obvious confusion.

Ichimatsu wouldn't make eye contact with either one of you.

The realization dawned upon you, brilliantly.

"...I'm Momo-kun."

Jyushimatsu flopped his too-yellow too-long sleeves around, cheering. "Peach-kun, Peach-kun, Peach-kun!"

You couldn’t believe it. Jyushimatsu knew about your scented lotion. Ichimatsu talked to Jyushimatsu about your scented lotion.

Ichimatsu talked to Jyushimatsu about you.

"I--is that nickname really necessary?" you asked, pushing your hair behind your ear. "I mean, it's just lotion I use on special occasions..."

Ichimatsu raised an eyebrow. "But you wear it every time we're together."

You had no words.

Ichimatsu hadn't realized the gravity of the implication until you made a point of not responding; suddenly, neither of you could break eye contact with the other, and your cheeks went as red as the shells of his ears.

"Aaah," Jyushimatsu teased. "Ichimatsu-niisan is a special occasion. How nice!"

"They can come if they want to, I don't care," Ichimatsu snapped, ignoring him. "Either way, we need to swing home first so I can go brush my teeth."

"No need!" Eager to change the subject, you raised an index finger, politely pardoning your interruption. "I bought you a toothbrush. It's in the bathroom cupboard."

"...you bought me a toothbrush?"

"Yeah!"

"Were you expecting me to stay over?"

"W--well...I..."

Wide-eyed and deathly concerned, Jyushimatsu looked at the ground deep in thought, covering his mouth with his sleeve. "I can't believe Momo-kun was expecting to sleep with Ichimatsu-nii-san..."

"Pervert," Ichimatsu muttered into his breakfast.

"H--hey, that was NOT the plan, okay??" You curled your blanket tighter around your shoulders, embarrassed through and through. "I just figured--you and I fall asleep pretty often, I just--eventually, it'd get too late to--I mean, technically, I was expecting to sleep with you, yes, but not like, sleep sleep with you, that wasn't my intention at all--"

"Ah." Ichimatsu had a row of apple slices sticking out of his mouth. "Does the thought of touching my disgusting body offend you that much?"

"That's pretty harsh, Momo-kun."

"What--NO!" (You turned even redder.) "Look, I am NOT interested in getting tag-teamed like this today, especially not by you two!"

"Tag-teamed?!" Waving his flappy sleeve, Jyushimatsu had the gall to laugh at you. "Momo-kun, I'm already spoken for! I can't do that!"

"Pervert," Ichimatsu repeated, his cheeks filled with rice.

You pulled your blanket tightly over your head to shield yourself from the rest of the world around you, and groaned loudly in surrender beneath the covers.

You slipped your key into the front door, shrugging on the strap of your messenger bag as you locked up your apartment. It was the same bag Ichimatsu picked out for you not too long ago, with its little cat paw keychain dangling on the side; you'd been using the bag on a daily basis, to and from school and work, and nowadays, you were rarely seen in public without it.

(Seeing you carry his gift around filled Ichimatsu with a weird sense of pride, but he did well to hide it while he was around you.)

"So, where are we going?" you asked, to neither brother in particular. "Nowhere near my workplace, right?"

Ichimatsu smirked. "Nowhere where anyone believes you're stuck at home taking mondo shits all day, no."

"Uwaaah!" Jyushimatsu’s gasp was inappropriately delighted. "Does Momo-kun have a parasite??"

"No," both you and Ichimatsu said at once.

As you put your house keys away and turned to leave, you found your pathway blocked by a little old lady--your next-door neighbor--standing in the hallway with her key stuck in her door. Her arms were filled with brown paper bags of early market groceries as she kept a watchful, judgmental eye on you and two strange men leaving your apartment.

You all stared at each other in silence.

"Tag-team!" was all Jyushimatsu said.

Opening her door, the old lady laughed and shook her head, smiling. "Oh, I miss the days I could be that adventurous."

You and Ichimatsu blushed, furiously.

"I might actually die," you whispered.

"Die before me and I'll kill you," was his reply.

One thing you observed through your recent experiences with Ichimatsu was that his shortage of income had him walking wherever he needed to go, instead of driving or taking public transit, and you quickly learned the habit ran in the family. Wherever you were headed now was a good trek away from your apartment building, but walking everywhere on a regular basis gave the brothers an impeccable sense of direction; they, unlike you, didn't need to pull up directions on their phone to know exactly where they were going.

About an hour later, you rounded another corner, only to be met with a giant multi-coloured building bursting with bright lights and the sound of laughter.

"An arcade?" you asked, slowing in your tracks.

Jyushimatsu kept on walking, pumping his fist in the air. "Yep, yep!"

"That's right," Ichimatsu said, resting his hands on your shoulders from behind and wheeling you towards the building. "You called in sick to work so you could play hooky at an arcade."

Laughing, you let him guide you towards the doors. "I used to be such a respectable person."

"And now you're a delinquent like the rest of us. Congratulations."

Even though you were still anxious about the possibility of being caught by a coworker or someone else you knew, the risk of it all got your adrenaline pumping in a way that made you excited instead of nauseous. You hadn't been to an arcade in years, after all--back then, you didn't have the time or the friends to make the trips worthwhile. There was something about being at an arcade now, however, that made you feel hopelessly immature, in a good way, like you were catching up on all the awesome things you missed out on as a kid.

Upon entering the arcade building, your attention was immediately drawn to the corner boasting rows upon rows of fighting games; you were itching to get a round or two of Street Fighter in to see if your muscle memory would still serve you well, but Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu had very different plans.

You followed the two boys further and further to the back of the arcade, passing the pinball machines and the driving simulators and the multitude of rhythm games, until you reached a massive hallway filled with UFO Catchers and miscellaneous crane games.

"Oh, that's right!" you said, remembering Jyushimatsu's words from earlier that morning. "You mentioned you wanted to grab prizes today! Do you have a favourite series? What are we trying to get from here?"

"Everything," Ichimatsu said shortly.

You laughed at first, but stopped at once, as you could tell from the looks in their eyes that there was no joke to be had here.

"Crash course," Ichimatsu continued, "there are seven different catcher machine mechanics."

"Seven, seven, seven!" Jyushimatsu cheered. "The Pincher, the Suspensions, the Finger, the Giant Pinch, the Giant Claw, the Pull, and the Hole in One!"

"They've all got different techniques to them, but winning anything is attainable with patience. Like in Mahjong."

"Remember!" Jyushimatsu gestured wildly with his hands. "The force of the claw extending downwards is always, always, always stronger than the force of the claw's grip!"

"That means you want to play the long game, doing multiple rounds to move a single prize into a good position so you can get it, instead of trying to get a prize in one go."

"But keep an eye open for people who've done most of the work already! Sometimes you get lucky and find a prize in a good spot!"

"You also need a budget, don't sink too much money into a single prize. If it's not working out, leave it and move on."

"We want as much as we can get with the smallest amount of money! Because we're broke! All the money I have today I stole from Karamatsu-niisan's pachinko winnings!"

Ichimatsu nodded, sagely. "Good call. Shittymatsu would've probably spent it on something stupid, anyway."

"He was planning on screen-printing more tank tops with his face on them!"

"God, what an asshole."

You'd gone a little cross-eyed.

You figured the fact that you'd already met Karamatsu, and the fact you liked the guy just fine, were the least of your worries, right now. While you attempted to process the sudden influx of information, you noticed both of their demeanors had shifted significantly from the time you all entered the building.

Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu were crane game sharks.

(Was this really happening?)

Before you had a chance to imagine what they even did with all of their winnings, the brothers had already taken to various UFO Catchers, inserting 100-yen coins and maneuvering the mechanisms with practiced, strategic precision.

As predicted, their toy harvest was bountiful.

From plushies to pillows to various anime figurines, they worked each game with the ease of their mastery, collecting at least three items from each machine until Jyushimatsu had to grab a massive plastic garbage bag from the front counter just to carry them all.

You tried your hand at a couple of crane games to help them build their stash, but even with their guidance and advice, your efforts were in absolute vain.

It got you wondering just how long they'd been doing this to have gotten so damn good at it.

While going between the two of them to see what they were working on, you noticed Ichimatsu's constant glances lingering on a Kiki's Delivery Service themed UFO Catcher--specifically, a palm-sized plushie of a fluffy black cat with big eyes and purple ears.

"Are you going to try for that cat next?" you asked, pointing through the glass.

He seemed startled to realize you'd caught him staring.

"No need." He shrugged before shuffling away. "Jyushimatsu already has something from this machine."

"Oh, okay."

You watched Ichimatsu's slouched back as he walked off to a Totoro machine and entered a coin.

You looked back at the cat plush.

'The force of the claw extending downwards is stronger than the force of the claw's grip,' you reminded yourself, and you pulled a coin from your pocket.

During mid-day, the three of you took a short break from prize-hunting to explore the rest of the arcade. You played pretty decently against people on BlazBlue, though not as well as you did once upon a time; to your surprise, DDR was Ichimatsu's best game, while Jyushimatsu got 97% on an expert-level MaiMai double play due to the fact the flexibility of his arms seemed to defy all known laws of physics.

There was a teeny-tiny photobooth set up in the backend of the arcade, just big enough for two people, and you were surprised at how easily Jyushimatsu was able to shove Ichimatsu inside of it.

You were even more surprised when Jyushimatsu shoved you inside right after his brother.

You squeaked as you and Ichimatsu crashed into each other, collapsing in a mess of apologies and tangled limbs inside the confined space of the booth. Acting on instinct, Ichimatsu tried to ease your fall by reaching his arms out in front of himself; he ended up backed into a corner with his hands around your waist, holding you steady as you leaned over him.

His hands and your stares lingered half a second longer than necessary, before you both righted yourselves in a flustered hurry.

"I--I thought Jyushimatsu-kun was the one who wanted to take pictures with you," you muttered.

"No such luck," Ichimatsu replied. "I think he thinks he's doing us a favour. It's best not to struggle whenever he tries to drag you somewhere."

"Ah. I see."

A yellow-sleeved arm entered the booth, inserting coins into the slot in front of you.

"Say cheese!" called the cheery voice from the outside of the curtain.

You tried to look cute.

You really did.

But everything happened so fast and so unexpectedly, the majority of the photo session involved the two of you just sitting next to one another in silence, avoiding eye contact, growing redder and redder with each passing moment. Ichimatsu had his hands folded on his lap the whole time, so for the last photo, you tried to do something not boring and rested one of your hands on top of one of his; you thought you were blushing, but when your fingers touched, you swore you saw smoke blowing out of his ears.

The photos printed out on a single strip, you looked about as awkward in them as you felt.

"I look like I'm having a heat stroke," you grumbled. "No amount of colour correction would've fixed that."

"You look fine," Ichimatsu said. "I look high."

"No you don't, those are just your eyes. Your eyes are nice."

"You don't have to lie so blatantly to spare my feelings."

"They are, though! Not like mine. And this one--god, why do I look like I'm about to cry?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, that's just the way you look when you smile."

"Really? That sucks."

"I like your smile," he mumbled.

"I like yours, too," you whispered back, motioning to the one photo of him smirking, just a little. "I don’t know…I guess I just hate looking at pictures of myself."

"I know the feeling."

Without warning, Jyushimatsu reached over and yanked the photo strip away from the two of you…

“Hey--”

“What are you--”

…before tearing it vertically in half.

You and Ichimatsu's protests fell on deaf ears.

When Jyushimatsu was done, one half of the strip had all of your pictures, which he gave to Ichimatsu; the other half had Ichimatsu's pictures, which he then gave to you.

"There!" he said happily. "Ichimatsu-niisan doesn't like looking at himself, and Momo-kun doesn't like looking at themselves, either. This way, Ichimatsu-niisan and Momo-kun can see each other anytime they want, even when they're not together!"

You opened your mouth, attempting to say something, but you suddenly noticed how intently Ichimatsu was staring at his brother.

"That's a good idea," Ichimatsu nodded, pocketing his torn half of the strip. "Thank you."

Jyushimatsu returned Ichimatsu's comment with a smile so massive his eyes squeezed shut.

You had the haunting feeling you were missing something big, here.

So you tucked your strip into your messenger bag, and you didn't say a word.

That day, Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu spent so much money at the arcade and won so many prizes in return, the manager of the establishment provided them with a large cardboard box in which to take home their winnings.

Kneeling on the floor of the arcade lobby, Ichimatsu was helping Jyushimatsu pack away the last of their combined haul, using what you could only assume to be advanced Tetris skills to pack them all perfectly inside.

You snuck up behind him and knelt down to meet his height before tapping him on the shoulder.

Ichimatsu turned around to face you, only to boop his nose against the tiny pink nose of a tiny plush cat.

"Surprise!" you grinned.

Once he realized what you'd done, a wild blush spread across his cheeks as he started to mouth soundless words his voice couldn't carry.

You laughed nervously. "I, uh, broke your rule about quitting a crane game if it didn't work out after the first few tries. I ended up spending all my money on this little guy. Do you like him?"

Nodding, Ichimatsu took the plush from you. His hands brushed across yours as he accepted it.

"I'm glad," you smiled.

Ichimatsu didn’t say anything in response, but he did nestle the plush in the hood of his sweatshirt to keep it safe and sound, and it was the cutest goddamn thing you'd ever seen in your entire life.

"We need to go!" Jyushimatsu spoke up. "The post office is closing soon!"

You blinked. "The post office...?"

“The post office!” Jyushimatsu was strong enough to haul the entire box of goodies from the arcade on his own, holding it triumphantly over his head as he waddled out the doors.

"You'll see," Ichimatsu said, leading you out.

Half-an-hour later, the three of you were sitting on the sidewalk, outside the curb of the nearest post office. Jyushimatsu stuck his tongue out, black marker in hand as he filled out the addresses on the postal stickers he’d attached to the box. You couldn't help but take notice of the recipient he'd written down.

"Who's Homura?" you asked, curious.

"KING SIZED GAME-WINNING HOMERUN!" he shouted in reply.

"His girlfriend," Ichimatsu translated.

"Aw, that’s so sweet!" you beamed. "No wonder you got so many toys. Man, you must really like her a lot to go through all this work."

"Mmhm! Homura-chan is having a rough time, so I promised to send her something to cheer her up! She lives all the way across the country, with her parents."

"That explains why you can't see each other very often. You guys live with your parents too, right?"

"We do!" Jyushimatsu nodded. "We don't have our own place yet. I don't really want my own place, to be honest."

"But moving out on your own is so much fun! You can do whatever you want and have whoever you want over, whenever you want to, without having to worry about your parents or anyone else at all!"

"We can do that now," Ichimatsu said flatly. "Our parents aren't very strict."

"Ahh, Kaasan and Otousan are really great," Jyushimatsu sighed. "It would be nice to get our own place someday, but it would be even nicer if we could just stay with them forever."

Ichimatsu sneered. "What's wrong, did your parents kick you out as soon as you got into University, or something?"

"They didn't kick me out, I wanted to leave that house as soon as I could."

"How come?" Jyushimatsu asked.

Realizing you’d said too much, you fell quiet.

Jyushimatsu stopped writing and tilted his head to the side. "Momo-kun?"

"Jyushimatsu," Ichimatsu said sharply, "you should probably mail off that box before they close. We'll wait for you out here, okay?"

"Alrighty! I'll be right back!"

Jyushimatsu lifted the newly-addressed box over his head once more, and headed into the post office, kicking the doors open for himself.

You stayed silent, staring at the concrete as your grip tightened around the strap of your messenger bag. You felt the full weight of Ichimatsu’s gaze on you, and your stomach twisted and turned in anticipation of any of the several follow-up questions he could've asked, but he asked nothing, he said nothing, until you were certain you were the one who would have to break the silence.

"...do I make you feel bad about yourself?"

He didn't react. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Earlier this morning," you clarified. "I can't remember what I said, exactly, but you asked if I found you disgusting. I don't. Did I say something to make you feel that way?"

"Tch." He spread his legs a little, resting his elbows on his knees. "I’ve told you before, I don't waste my time with people who make me feel bad about myself. I do enough of that on my own."

"I'm...just worried I might have picked up some bad habits from my parents without knowing it. I'm worried that's the reason I don't have any friends. I’m worried about...I don't want to make anyone feel the way they make me feel. Not even by accident."

"I don't know what your parents are like, but you're the only one allowed to make yourself feel like shit. Don't bother worrying about the opinions of people who make you feel that way, too. Stupid thing to do."

"But my parents, they're really, really generous. I owe it to them to listen to what they have to say, no matter how negative it is, right? I mean, they help me out a lot, paying for my school and living expenses and stuff..."

"So? That's what parents are supposed to do. They're the ones who brought you into the world, right? You don't owe them anything for taking care of you."

"Have I ever made you feel bad about yourself?" you repeated.

He blushed as he glanced over at you.

"Honestly? If anything, you make me feel not so shitty all the time." He scowled and rolled his eyes, annoyed by the fact you made him say something like that out loud. "Dumb question."

There was still the same space separating the two of you on the curb, but somehow, you felt like you'd moved a little closer.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"Oh, um...” Closing your eyes and shaking your head, you wracked your brain for your schedule. “I have school tomorrow morning, then I work until late."

"What about after school at your apartment, day after tomorrow?"

"Oh. U--um. Yeah. Yeah, that works."

He quirked an eyebrow. "...did I say something weird?"

"N--no," you stammered, trying to hide the red in your cheeks. "Not at all, I, uh. I'm just not used to. Anyone wanting to hang out with me this much."

"I'm not used to it, either." He folded his arms on his knees. "It feels weird. I'm trying to make it feel not weird by doing it more. That’s okay, right?"

Another few beats of silence.

Smiling to yourself, you leaned backwards, resting your palms on the concrete behind you and propping yourself up.

What you were thinking right now would be a lot easier to say if you weren't looking him in the eyes.

"For the record, I...I don't think your body is disgusting. At all." Your line of vision was fixated on the streetlamp above you. "Actually, I--I hope that...you know, when we're ready, that I'd be able to see more of it, one day."

"Stop saying such lewd things in public," he snapped, muttering into his crossed arms, "especially things you don't mean."

"Of course I mean it. I mean, you..." Still staring up at the streetlamp bulb, you chewed at the inside of your lip. "D...don't you want to see more of me?"

He lifted his head and turned to you, sharply.

Undeniably cat-like.

"You'd...let me do that?"

"Maybe. Yeah. When we're both ready."

"It took me weeks just to kiss you. Once. You might be waiting a while."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"...you really must be some kind of masochist."

"A patient masochist."

"That's the scariest kind."

"Is it a good kind of scary?"

"...hn. Yeah."

He was tangling his fingers with yours on his own volition, and you felt so incredibly warm.

His hand still on yours, you felt Ichimatsu flinch when Jyushimatsu burst through the doors behind you and practically skipped out of the post office, the massive box in his hands replaced with a shipping notice.

"Ichimatsu-niisan," he sang, "we should get going home if we wanna make it for dinner!"

"Ah. Sure."

Your hand tightened against his, refusing to let go just yet. "Ichimatsu?"

He turned towards you. "What?"

And you kissed him.

You felt him inhale upon contact, smoothly, quickly, and when he breathed out, he pressed into your kiss more than he did the first time you tried this. Your front teeth bumped together from the unexpected push, and you smiled against each other; for a moment, you both forgot your nerves and lost yourselves together, lips touching and noses brushing and half a laugh caught in each of your throats.

(Jyushimatsu's pupils widened, again, as he brought a sleeved hand to his mouth and looked at the ground in deep thought.)

When you finally broke away from each other, you smiled shyly into your hands.

"Twice," you corrected. "We've kissed twice, now."

He swallowed hard.

The flustered, crooked smile he gave you in reply was trembling just as much as the rest of him, and in that moment, you knew you loved him, you loved him, and just maybe, he loved you, too.