Chapter Text
Chibita had walked to the house party, throbbing music greeting him halfway up the block. The high schoolers at the bridge that he'd eavesdropped on earlier that day had talked about how exclusive the party would be, how only certain people were invited. But, judging by how Chibita was just able to walk in the front door, that was all bullshit.
Standing in the doorway and looking out, it was a stereotypical house party: unsupervised teenagers drinking and laughing over the speakers, a few making out on the couch in the front room.
He was already bored.
Chibita made a beeline to where he assumed the kitchen was, pushing past a group of giggly girls gathered right in the middle of a hallway. Seriously, why did they do that?
He grabbed a red cup from a pile on the kitchen island, and the nearest open bottle he could reach. Vodka. He filled the cup halfway and didn't even bother trying to find juice or something. He'd developed a tolerance early on for alcohol.
Chibita took a sip, and immediately cringed at the sharp taste, like nail polish remover. Perfect.
The original plan was to stay in the kitchen, hoard the alcohol, and get wasted. But the house was too crowded, too loud. More and more people were coming in, and he started to feel a little claustrophobic. So, with the vodka bottle and a thing of whiskey tucked under his arm, Chibita made his way to the back of the house, hoping to find an empty room, or maybe somewhere outside.
He made it to a glass door leading outside, but there were far too many people out there. No thanks. He made a left turn and found a staircase, jogging up the steps. A wave of relief washed over him when the music got quieter, and when he didn't see anyone.
Now to find a quiet place to drink.
The first room to his right had a couple dry-humping on a bed. He slammed the door shut with flaming cheeks, ignoring the girl yelling at him from within.
The next room he tried had a person in it, and he was about to slam that door shut as well and move on, before the person inside spoke up.
"Chibita?"
He paused, taking a closer look at the person. Oh god, it was a Matsuno. And he was wearing aviator sunglasses. Indoors.
"Uh..." He squinted at him, trying to figure out which one it was. Which one was the one in the drama club? It had to be him. "Karamatsu?"
Karamatsu's face lit up, confirming that it was indeed him. Thank God. That'd be awkward if it wasn't him. Karamatsu stood up from where he was sitting on the bed and started to walk towards him.
"Yeah! Hey! I came here with Totoko, she gave me a drink and told me to go upstairs! I think it's tequila." Chibita raised a brow at the cheerful tone in his voice, and grabbed his cup from him. He took a sip and didn't know whether to laugh or hit Karamatsu for being so dumb.
"This is orange juice. Just... plain orange juice."
Karamatsu's smile flickered out, and was replaced with a look of a disappointment. "Are you sure? I was feeling a buzz..."
Chibita stared. He thought that maybe the Matsunos would be a little less stupid with age. Apparently not. Wordlessly, he dumped half of his cup of vodka into Karamatsu's orange juice and shoved it back to him.
"Come with me," he said, grabbing Karamatsu by his free hand and leading him out of the room. He followed him, eager if but a little confused. Chibita didn't know where he was going really, but he didn't want to stay in that room and listen to the couple across the hall getting it on. And who knows, Karamatsu might be good company.
"Where are those brothers of yours anyway? Shouldn't you be with them? You guys are kinda a package deal. Buy one get five free, right?"
Karamatsu let out a small chuckle, one that sounded very practiced and very fake. Fucking theatre kids. "My dear brothers are... unaware of my... presence here tonight. And uh, I just so happened to run into our... darling friend, Totoko on my way here." he explained, stumbling over the words. Was he trying to sound pretentious?
"So you snuck out," Chibita said flatly. Karamatsu jogged a few steps so that he was beside Chibita, not lagging behind him.
"Mmhm," he hummed, taking a sip of his drink that Chibita had mixed for him and almost immediately choking. Maybe he'd made it a little too strong? Oh well.
They came to another set of glass doors, leading out to a balcony. There was one lone person outside, leaning against the railing. Karamatsu paused in their walk, ready to double back, but Chibita simply swung open the doors and barked, "Leave." Chibita was small, yeah, but he could be intimidating when he wanted to be. Sure enough, the guy on the railing scattered without any resistance, ducking behind them and going down the hall. And he left behind a half case of beer. Sweet.
Chibita smiled, letting go of Karamatsu's hand (had he really been holding it this whole time?) and taking the spot of their recently departed friend. Karamatsu joined him, keeping about a foot of distance between them.
"Ah... the night is beautiful, a wondrous... array of stars and planets," he declared, his voice bending strangely around the English words. Chibita snorted, knocking back a few chugs of his drink. It was beautiful, yes, but Karamatsu had pointed it out in the most unnecessary fashion.
"You are such a theatre kid," he laughed, slumping over the railing. "Are your brothers like this, too?" Karamatsu let out another fake chuckle, as if the idea was juvenile and preposterous.
"Ah... no, I am the only one among us who... sees the world in all its beauty. I'm like a... like a lone wolf, my friend." He kept pausing to think of what he was going to say next, clearly new to speaking like a poetic asshole. Chibita wasn't sure yet if it was annoying or if he liked it. He was leaning towards the latter.
"You're weird," he mumbled, but it wasn’t an insult, more of just a flat statement. It came out almost like a compliment. The buzz from the vodka was already setting in, it seemed. Karamatsu smirked, as if that was the highest praise he could've received, and took another sip of his drink.
Despite his acting skills, he wasn't able to hide the cringe from the taste. Chibita laughed, and gingerly took the cup from him. "Do you want some beer instead?" he asked, already pouring Karamatsu's drink into his own and throwing the empty solo cup behind them. He nodded, and Chibita grabbed one for him, noting how if he moved too fast his world began to blur at the edges.
They drank in silence for a while, smiling dumbly under the influence. By the time Chibita had finished his cup, Karamatsu had taken less than ten sips from his bottle. And somehow he seemed to be as drunk as Chibita, if not more. What a lightweight.
"Time fer a refill," he said, winking at Karamatsu (for some reason). He didn't trust himself to not drop it, so he handed the bottle of whiskey to Karamatsu for him to pour. "Can you do the honors?"
Karamatsu looked at Chibita as if he'd been asked to raise his first born child. "It would be my pleasure," he said (slurred) dramatically, uncapping the bottle and throwing the cap with a flourish over the balcony railing and into the yard below. He tipped the bottle into the cup with immense concentration, sloshing it onto Chibita's hand.
Chibita, while sober, would have been angry, or at the very least annoyed. But drunk Chibita simply laughed more, wiping his hand on Karamatsu's shirt. It had a stupid design, a comic book style explosion? So he didn't feel too bad about it.
He kept rubbing his hand on Karamatsu's chest, forgetting what the purpose of this was. "Do you work out?" he mumbled, patting his stomach vaguely.
"Ah, no, I guess that's just my natural physique," he replied, leaning towards Chibita's touch. Chibita hummed quietly, splaying his hand delicately across his chest. It stayed there for a few moments before he quickly withdrew it. Fuck, he was a little more drunk than he thought.
They were both blushing as Chibita took a swig of his whiskey, and he desperately thought of a way to make it not awkward.
“I like your shirt,” Chibita commented, glancing at the obnoxious logo he wore on his shirt. Karamatsu's eyes lit up, and he grinned, looking down at his outfit as if it was the first time he was seeing it.
“Really?” he asked, and Chibita realized that he was tearing up, a huge watery grin on his face.
“What- what the hell?! Why are you crying?” Chibita didn't know what to do, panic bubbling up as Karamatsu sniffed and wiped his cheeks. He reached up to cup his face, intending on coming across as caring. But in his inebriated state, it was more like him just squishing Karamatsu's cheeks.
“You're so nice to me,” Karamatsu said, his smile widening and his eyes shining with gratitude.
“You're a dork,” Chibita mumbled back, squishing Karamatsu's cheeks in so that his lips puckered. He looked like a fish. A really dumb, really cute fish. A smile cracked across Chibita's face at how ridiculous his friend looked. “Pft.” He relaxed his grip on his face, and he rested his gaze on it instead. The cheekbone he was stroking with his thumb was soft, and the lips by his palm were full and a light pink color. He'd known the Matsunos for as long as he could remember, but he didn't remember them being... attractive?
“Remind me, why aren't you with your brothers?” He was tilting Karamatsu's head back and forth, and he was just letting him.
“Sometimes the burden of family is too much,” he said, his voice slurring over the English word.
“No.” Chibita stopped moving his head, forcing him to look him straight in the eye. “Tell me why. Are you guys growing apart now?” Chibita wasn't sure why he needed to know so much. Maybe being nosey was a side effect of drinking straight hard alcohol.
Karamatsu didn't seem to know how to answer. He just stared Chibita, confused. “I guess I just to be by myself, for a little while,” he said, slowly, mulling over his words. “I don't want to be the second Matsuno brother, I just... wanna be me. I want to have some experiences outside of just doing whatever Osomatsu says we should do.” He gazed out into the night, and the muffled sounds of the partying teenagers and music filled the silence between them as Chibita struggled for something to say.
“Well, I think you’re doing an okay job so far,” he mumbled. “I don’t think any of your brothers would want to be seen with me at a party,” he added. “That’s a new experience. And you haven’t beaten me up yet! Also a new experience.” Karamatsu let out a nervous chuckle despite himself.
“Who wouldn’t want to be seen with such a radiant beauty as yourself?” he replied, giving Chibita very gross bedroom eyes.
“You’re so drunk,” he whispered, giggling, and let go of his face, because the urge to do something dumb like kiss this idiot on the cheek was very strong. “Do you wanna go downstairs? Maybe hang out with some other people?” Chibita asked. Not that he really wanted him to go, but more that he wanted Karamatsu to not feel like he had to stay glued to his side all night.
“Non, non,” Karamatsu said, sipping his beer. “I’d rather stay up here with you... looking on at this sugary, moonbeam night...”
“ ‘Sugary’ isn’t the word I’d use to describe it,” Chibita said, leaning back onto the railing of the balcony. “Cold is a better word for it.” As if on cue, he shivered, clutching his arms to his sides. It was a chilly fall night, and the wind had just started to pick up a little. Great night to forget your coat, Chibita, good fucking job.
Something warm was suddenly draped across his shoulders, heavy and reassuring in its height. Chibita looked to Karamatsu, and realized he wasn’t wearing his bomber jacket. In the same breath, he realized that the bomber jacket was around his own shoulders.
“Idjit, now you’re gonna get cold-” Chibita said, trying to shrug it off and give it back. The gesture was appreciated, but the t-shirt Karamatsu wore, which he know noticed the sleeves were ripped off of, didn’t look very warm.
“Non, I insist,” Karamatsu interjected, pushing it back onto his shoulders. “You are a delicate flower, and shouldn’t have to face the fierce cold of this torturous night.” Was this how he always talked?
“I ain’t delicate, and I’m not a flower either,” Chibita huffed, letting the jacket hang loosely like a cape around him. Karamatsu pondered that for a moment, then snapped his fingers as he seemed to have a ‘eureka’ moment.
“You are a flower, my darling, but not any flower! A thorny rose bud, deceptively beautiful, but not afraid to... to prick someone’s finger,” he finished lamely.
A rose bud? He liked that. “That’s better,” he said, and finally accepted the jacket. He put it on, and was pleasantly surprised by how warm the worn brown material was.
“Thank you.” His voice was a little softer, a little more gentle, and for a moment, Chibita himself softened, melting into the jacket and giving him a small smile. Shock crossed across Karamatsu’s face momentarily, his eyes going wide for a split second before he fell right back into his cool-guy persona, chuckling and looking to the side, almost like he was posing.
“It’s not a problem, my rose bud,” he declared. It was the the first endearment that made Chibita blush. It was so personalized, so unlike the other generic ones that just seemed to slip out of him like they were nothing. ‘Rose bud’ felt like everything.
They stood in silence once more. It was a happy, comfortable silence. Chibita stared down at the yard below them, watching the party goers. One of the boys was on fire? Or maybe he was just lighting a firework. Nope. No. He was definitely on fire. Chibita took a calm sip of his drink.
“Are you seeing this?” he asked, turning his head to glance at Karamatsu, expecting him to be enraptured by the scene unfolding two stories beneath them. Instead, he was staring right back at Chibita, with this huge, dopey grin on his face. Had he been staring at him this whole time? The thought made him feel very, very warm.
“What? Do I have something on my face-”
Karamatsu shook his head. “Non... forgive me, I was... enchanted by your looks, my rose bud.” He tilted his head, trying to pose, and only succeeded in spilling his drink more. Chibita smirked, framing his face with his hands.
“I don’t blame you,” he giggled, winking at Karamatsu.
“Chibita...?” The seriousness in Karamatsu’s voice stunned Chibita out of his playfulness. “It might be the drinks, but... I think I’m falling in love with you. I can’t tell if I’m intoxicated by this beer or by the way you smile at me.” He spoke slowly, like he knew he was drunk but wanted his words to be as clear as possible. Chibita blinked, processing the confession. Then a very smug look fell onto his face.
“Well,” Chibita slurred. “I am a helluva catch.”
Karamatsu let out a low whine, butting his head into Chibita’s shoulder. “I’m being serious,” he mumbled against the fabric of the jacket. Chibita reached up to pet Karamatsu’s hair, his hand running through the gelled mop.
“So am I,” he replied. “Maybe I’ll let you steal a kiss later tonight,” Chibita added, his tone way more flirtatious than he’d intended.
Karamatsu straightened up at that, hope kindling in his eyes. “How about right now?” he asked, his voice low, his gaze intense. His words made Chibita’s breath catch, his eyes widen. No one had ever wanted to kiss him before, no one had ever looked so wildly infatuated with him as much as Karamatsu looked right then when his hands were cupping his face.
“I-... yeah, sure,” he whispered. The words were barely out of his mouth before Karamatsu pressed his lips to his and Chibita felt his knees go weak.
He was so soft. His lips, his hands gently stroking his face, his hair that Chibita ended up gripping and using to pull him closer. They were sloppy, inexperienced and intoxicated. Their mouths sometimes missed and their teeth sometimes clashed and scraped and Chibita sometimes bit a little too hard on his bottom lip, but it still felt so good, so right.
Karamatsu pulled away far too soon, the kiss lasting for only a minute. Chibita still held on fast to him, one hand knotted in his hair and the other clutching the collar of his shirt, trying to keep him close. His heart raced in his chest as he studied his face, the curve of his eyelashes, the fullness of his red and bitten lips, his visage illuminated by the soft glow of the night. “You’re beautiful, too,” Chibita muttered, the words slipping out before he could really stop them. Karamatsu grinned, leaning down to plant a tender kiss to his nose. “You’re more beautiful,” he replied, his words barely audible.
“No, fuck you, pretty boy,” Chibita mumbled. “You’re the prettiest boy I’ve... ever seen.”
“Then you’ve clearly never looked in a mirror,” Karamatsu replied, and Chibita’s nose wrinkled. He shouldn’t be that smooth when he was this drunk.
“Fuck you,” he said again, clearly very on top of his game.
Chibita finally, after a few moments of hesitation, let go of Karamatsu, his touch lingering far longer than it probably should have as he ran his fingertips down his chest. He didn’t trust himself to not kiss this boy until their lips fucking bled. “Let’s get something to eat,” he said, slipping his hand into Karamatsu’s.
He eagerly agreed, and they made their way downstairs, bumping into walls on their way to the kitchen. Sitting on the kitchen island was half of a pizza, a bag of potato chips, several overturned solo cups, and Totoko. Some older boy had his arm around her waist, and was pressing kisses down her neck while she sipped her drink, looking very bored for someone with arm candy that looked like that. Her eyes lit up when she saw Chibita, and she pushed at the shoulder of the older boy to give her full attention to him.
“Chibita! Hey! Long time no see,” she said brightly, swinging her legs back and forth. “How’s your first year of high school going? I graduated last year, but I missed these parties, yano? Thought I’d revisit my glory days. How have you been? I’ve been great, this is Yusuke, or uh... was it Yuto? Yuta? Whatever, you’re wasted, you probably don’t even know your own name.”
Chibita didn’t get a chance to answer any of her questions or tell her that he’d dropped out of school before her eyes fell upon Karamatsu and her face twisted rather unpleasantly. “Oh, you found him? I was trying to keep him away from everyone, you know how embarrassing he can be.” Karamatsu smiled and waved at her, seemingly oblivious to the annoyance she was seething.
“He’s actually been pretty good company,” Chibita said stiffly before Totoko could start talking again. “We were just getting some food.” With that, he let go of Karamatsu’s hand to grab the pizza box. “See you later, Totoko!”
He dragged Karamatsu from the kitchen and further into the first story of the house, no idea where they were going, just that they were going away from Totoko. Her words had rubbed him the wrong way, the way she’d talked about Karamatsu like he was an ugly family heirloom to be hidden in the closet when guests came over.
Chibita led them to a rather spacious room with (thank God) no one else in it. There was a pool table in the center of it, and a big couch shoved up against the wall. Posters plastered the walls and motorcycle books were piled up in random places.
With a content sigh, Karamatsu flopped onto the couch, sinking into the cushions. Chibita set the box on the couch next to them, and sat down as well, right onto Karamatsu’s lap. It just felt right in the moment. Karamatsu seemed to agree, automatically wrapping his arms around his waist and underneath his jacket.
Chibita grabbed a slice from the box, taking a bite. It was lukewarm and greasy, but he was so fucking hungry that it didn’t really matter. “Why do you just let people talk about you like that?” he asked, his mouth full.
Karamatsu paused, leaning his head against his shoulder. “Well, if people talk about me, at least it means they’re noticing me, right?” His words were quiet, almost drowned out by the muffled noises from around the house.
Chibita was too drunk for this. He gently pushed the slice against Karamatsu’s lips. “Eat,” he mumbled.
He did, taking small bites from the slice being pressed into his face.
“If no one is gonna like me for who I am, then they could at least just pay attention to me,” he said, after eating about half of the slice. Fuck, Chibita hated the way those words twisted and coiled his stomach into knots, the way guilt seemed to drown him. He couldn’t just give Karamatsu food until he stopped being sad.
So, he set down the slice of pizza, and shuffled around so that he was straddling Karamatsu, facing him. He didn’t cup his face in his hands so much as he grabbed it, holding it in place. He was being intense, he knew that, he could see it in the way Karamatsu bristled and tensed underneath him.
“I like you,” he said flatly. “I think you’re funny, and cute, and that you have good fashion sense. Sometimes. You’re a good person, and you’re nice. And if those fucking assholes like your brothers or Totoko can’t see that, then they’re fucking idjits who can’t see a good thing when it’s right under their nose.”
Karamatsu stared at him, his eyes huge, before his face crumpled. Hot tears slipped down his face. He tried to hide his face with his hands, but his hands couldn’t hide the ugly little sniffs and whimpers he was trying to cover up.
Chibita didn’t really know what else he expected.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he muttered, prying Karamatsu’s hands from his face. “It’s okay, it’s okay...” Chibita pressed little kisses to his cheeks, to his forehead, to the teardrops that welled up at the corners of his shut eyes.
Sobs wracked Karamatsu’s body at the contact, but when Chibita tried to pull away, worried he’d done something wrong, Karamatsu pulled him back, his knuckles white from holding onto his jacket so hard. “Don’t go,” he whispered, and he sounded so needy, so small.
So he leaned closer to him, their bodies flush as Chibita kissed him more, across his brow, against his temples, the corner of his mouth.
He didn’t know how it happened really, but suddenly they were kissing each other again. It was messy and rough at the edges, much like their kiss from earlier, but instead of dripping with the honey-sweetness of drunken teenage love, it was soaked in bitter vinegar. Chibita could taste the salt of his tears and the desperation of a touch starved boy on his lips, he could feel that lonely melancholy deep in his bones.
Karamatsu was whispering something, he kept repeating it against his lips like a prayer every few seconds. Chibita couldn’t make it out, not until he stopped kissing him to listen.
“Thank you, my rose bud.”
The whispering suddenly trailed off, and Karamatsu’s lips went still against his own. Chibita pulled back quickly, panicked that he’d somehow died on him. “Karamatsu?!”
Karamatsu lay there, his eyes closed, breathing slowly and steadily, his hands lax where they rested. Chibita blinked. Did he... did he fucking fall asleep? While he was kissing him?
Well, he did drink a lot.
With a resigned sigh, Chibita slumped against Karamatsu, curling up against his chest. He wondered what it would be like tomorrow. If Karamatsu would be just as star struck by him, or if that was all alcohol. He wondered if things would be awkward, if it would get around that Chibita had kissed a Matsuno, had told him he’d liked him. With red dusting his cheeks, he wondered if Karamatsu would wake up, sober, and still want to kiss him.
---
The first thing Chibita registered when he woke up was that his head fucking hurt. His blinking eyes felt sluggish and slow, and his mouth felt like it was filled with cotton.
The second thing Chibita registered was that he was laying on top of someone, someone warm, and that they had their arms wrapped around him. With a start, he jerked upright, looking down to see who he was laying on.
Karamatsu. His hair was mussed from sleeping on it wrong, and a bit of drool teased at the corner of his wide open mouth. But he still managed to look beautiful, the sun filtering in through the window lighting up the left side of his face in an almost angelic way. Chibita’s hand was halfway to his face, poised to stroke his cheekbone, when he froze, stopping himself.
He could picture the following scene perfectly in his head: Karamatu’s face twisting in disgust at they’d done and at the fact that they’d slept right next to each other. He could almost perfectly replicate in his mind the shouts from Karamatsu, him calling him ugly, gross, perverted.
Chibita felt like a bucket of ice water had been doused over his head, like he’d been woken up from a beautiful dream. Carefully, slowly, he slid from Karamatsu’s lap and from his arms, and then carefully and slowly left the room.
The house was a fucking disaster. It reeked of alcohol, and several kids were still asleep on the floor. As he walked past the kitchen, he had to cover his nose and pick up his pace. The unmistakable stench of vodka-induced vomit permeated the entire hall.
He found himself where he was at the beginning of the party, knocking gently on doors on the second floor and checking in them. Chibita didn’t find Totoko until the sixth door he tried.
She was standing in front of a mirror, applying lipstick very carefully, only wearing her skirt and a bra. The older boy was draped across the bed, still fast asleep. Looking at the hickies on her chest and the smudged makeup stains, it was very easy to tell what happened last night.
Totoko turned to see how the intruder was, and smiled brightly at Chibita. But, before she could get a word out, he cut her off.
“Do you have a ride home?” She blinked, before nodding to her still-asleep one night stand.
“He has a station wagon, it’s kinda ugly but at least he has a car, unlike-”
“Great. Can you take Karamatsu home? He’s downstairs right now, he’s still asleep.”
Totoko grinned wickedly and winked at Chibita. “Why don’t you take him home? You guys were getting pretty cozy last night, I thought,” she teased. Chibita winced.
“Totoko, please just take him home,” he said. “Make sure he drinks water. And don’t... don’t mention me.”
Totoko’s face fell, and for a moment he saw his childhood friend, not the girl that still went to high school parties after she’d graduated. “Did something happen?”
Chibita shook his head. “Nothing. Thanks, Totoko.”
Then he left the room. He walked down the stairs, avoided the kitchen, and passed the doorway of the room where Karamatsu slept. He stepped over the sleeping bodies and the trash that were scattered about the house, he walked out of the front door, his heart sinking with every step. He walked up the street, further and further away from the arms he wanted to be in. He bit his lip to keep himself distracted from the anxiety knotting his stomach.
The sun beat down on him mercilessly, and he could feel fall transitioning into spring right before him. It was hot, which was nice, but it was too damn hot for this jacket.
With a jolt, he realized he was still wearing Karamatsu’s jacket, the warm, brown bomber that he’d drunkenly given to him. Chibita stopped dead in his tracks, and quickly shed the jacket. Fuck. He turned, fully intending on marching right back down the street to give it back to him.
But... He pictured again the anger, the disgust that would undoubtedly paint his face. Was it worth returning this to see that? His hands clutched the jacket tight. No. No, he couldn’t bare it. He needed to keep going.
Chibita looked down at the jacket, and noticed something strange on the inside of the collar. His brow furrowed, he unfolded the fabric. There, messy yet obviously painstakingly stitched in light blue embroidery thread on the collar, was Karamatsu’s name. He’d probably done it himself, to keep his brothers from claiming it as their own. He swallowed a rather uncomfortable lump in his throat as his thumb ran over the raised writing.
With a final resolve that he didn’t look back on, Chibita tied the jacket around his waist and continued walking home.