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Kei had enjoyed his first year of university. He had been located in one of the on-campus dorms, which was great, because his parents’ house was an almost two hour commute away from his university.
His problems started in his second year, when he applied late to on-campus housing and so didn’t get accepted. His future was now filled with getting up at the asscrack of dawn, spendings nearly two hours on a train, and probably some early-morning-rage related homicide, knowing him.
When the chance to escape the hellish picture that had been painted of his next year at uni; when he was told that there was a room available, he jumped at the opportunity. It wasn’t the building they housed the returning students in and he would have to share it with a first-year undergraduate, but anything was better than living at his parents’ house. He could walk in on the first day, intimidate the kid into leaving him alone for the rest of the year, and enjoy the extra two hours of sleep each morning.
His university life was looking up.
Okay, fuck that.
Kei was very, very experienced in being terrifying. Many people had said that he was a bizarre combination of incredibly irritating and incredibly intimidating. When he weaponized this combination, it was more often than not excellent at driving people away.
Actually, scratch more often than not. This combination was foolproof! He had yet to meet a person who he couldn’t force away with the powers of his less-than-dazzling personality and behaviours.
Until he met his new roommate.
Jin Yuuichi was not an easily affected man. In fact, Jin Yuuichi was probably the type that did all the affecting, what with his terrible smirks and expressive eyebrows and arrogant remarks. And sure, Kei could suppose that that sounded similar, that perhaps he and Jin Yuuichi were cut from the same, infuriating cloth, but that would require him admitting defeat—or at least stalemate, and Kei did not do either of those things.
Tachikawa Kei was a winner. And if he couldn’t annoy his way into a relatively undisturbed second year of university, he was at the very, very least not going to let Jin motherfucking Yuuichi win at annoying him.
“So, we aren’t going to address the latent sexual tension here?” Izumi said casually as he dipped his fries into his sauce.
Kei smiled menacingly. “Has my poor Izumi finally cracked under the pressure of high school? Could it be that he’s hallucinating things that don’t exist?” Kei tried for a teasing tone, but he had underestimated how close the comment had hit home and so, his voice was full of mostly poison.
“Alright, alright. At the very least, admit you’re enjoying yourself.” Izumi said, sighing in defeat as he continued to scrape up sauce with his fry. Surely, there was too much on there now, but that didn’t seem to stop Izumi.
Kei didn’t like to lie to himself. He was a straightforward—some might even say blunt—guy. Of course, Kei was no saint either, so even though he did admit that “Yes, I do enjoy myself,” it was with no lack of bitterness.
Finally, Izumi shoved the fry into his mouth, covered with a frankly disgusting amount of tomato sauce. He nodded as he chewed, his hands already reaching for another fry to subject to the same, tomato-ey grave.
He finished chewing, licked any remaining sauce off his lips, and said: “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”
It was good. It might even be better than Kei’s original image of his roommate relationship. Being left alone all year would’ve been marvellous, but there was also a lot of enjoyment to be found in the snipes and comments that he and Jin would trade daily. It was fun. It was never boring. It kept Kei on his toes and anticipating.
Dear god, Kei might even consider the guy a friend .
“You look like you’ve had an epiphany,” Izumi observed, licking the sauce off of his fingers from a fry that he must have consumed while Kei was busy considering his relationship with his roommate.
“I think we’re… friends.” Kei said.
Izumi smiled—that awful, shit-eating smile that Kei knew the boy had picked up from him so he couldn’t blame anybody but himself. “Good. You need more of those.”
Their friendship, or, whatever it was, progressed greatly. They bickered over pretty much anything; sometimes their words evolved into actions and they’d be competing over pretty much anything. Kei wasn’t keeping a win tally, and he didn’t think Jin was either, but it was fun.
Refreshing, Unpredictable. Kei hated to be bored, and there was so very little about Jin that bored him.
Computer science major. Lifetime consumer of bonchi rice crackers. Avid chess player. Each little tidbit of information was new and exciting, never something that Kei would expect to hear.
Of course, some things were more unexpected than others. An example: Jin’s vested interest in kendo. Kei could safely say that, when he walked into the club sign-ups and saw his roommate standing, holding the shinai like he had been doing it since birth, he was shocked.
A little more than shocked. Maybe shocked enough to almost trip on the carpet. Kei’s pride would never allow him to say.
“Ah, Tachikawa,” Jin said in that obnoxiously pleasant tone of his. Kei responded in turn, his voice just as awfully cheery as he greeted Jin.
“You look like you know what you’re doing,” Kei said, his tone honeyed enough to warrant suspicion. Jin, if he suspected, showed no sign of it as he swung the shinai to rest upon his right shoulder.
“You have a sharp eye,” Jin said, in a way that left Kei wondering whether he had just been complimented or not. “I’m naturally talented in many areas, as you should know, but I’ve been practising kendo for quite a while.”
“Oho,” Kei said, the familiar edge of competition flavouring his next words, “so have I.”
When the club captain asked if anybody would like to demonstrate a quick match, Kei was pleased to note that he volunteered slightly faster than Jin.
“Get this,” Kei said to Izumi, “Jin joined kendo club.”
“I’m beginning to feel like you only invite me out to vent about your roommate,” Izumi replied instead of acknowledging Kei’s words like a good friend would.
Luckily, Kei was not easily deterred. “ I’m in kendo club. We’re in the same club. For kendo.”
“Are you happy you get the chance to hit him with a stick?”
“Yes.”
Izumi snorted. He looked up from the plate of okonomiyaki that had kept his attention for all of the conversation so far. “Have you two faced off? Have you turned your beloved kendo into yet another way for you to try and one up your roommate?”
Kei was the one snorting at that comment, because the insinuation that kendo could ever be something as frivolous as that to him was ridiculous. Izumi knew that too, from the way his eyes glinted.
“We did face off,” Kei said, attempting to create mystery and tension. Izumi wasn’t buying it.
“Did you win?” Izumi asked, like the good friend who knew how much kendo meant to Kei he was.
“Nobody won. Instructor stopped us before we could finish.” It was still jarring; the memory of being so quickly pulled from the heat of competition. Jin had always been great at riling Kei up, and vice versa. They had probably gotten a little too ahead of themselves in what was supposed to be a simple demonstration.
Izumi hmm ed at that, giving Kei the feeling that he was about to say something actually meaningful.
“If you had the chance to finish, who do you think would’ve won?”
Damn, it had been something actually meaningful. Kei hated when they had to be serious about things.
It was a testament to Kei’s growth as a person when he considered this, and replied with a subdued “I don’t know.”
It was not an answer Izumi had expected, clearly, but one that he seemed to enjoy.
“Oh,” was all he said at first. Then, “That’s exciting. Maybe you’ve finally met your match.”
It was true. Jin matched Kei, pace by pace, in everything. In friendly debates. In random competitions. In kendo , even. Jin slotted so easily into Kei’s life and yet caused such havoc in it, and it was in a serious-moment induced fit of honesty that Kei put the final nail in his coffin.
“Also,” he said, trying really hard to sound like he wasn't about to ruin his own life, “he uh. Looked really good, holding a sword.”
The smile that spread across Izumi’s face was many things. Awful. Unsurprising. Very familiar.
Kei really hated his past self for ever showing Izumi how to be that smug.
“ Oh ,” Izumi drawled, stabbing his chopsticks into the okonomiyaki to section off a piece. He put the piece in his mouth. He chewed. He swallowed. All in the meanwhile, he looked as if he was putting together a very easy puzzle. “You have a crush.”
And damn it all to hell, Kei really did.
A crush, Kei could deal with. Okay. Sure, he found his roommate very attractive. He found his roommate fun to be around. He maybe wanted to spend every day for the rest of his life with his roommate.
He could deal with that. Kei was a pretty expert piner. Give him a few days to work through the newly realized but very intense feelings, and he’d have it all under wraps. He had the hots for Jin. It wasn’t that bad.
Until it was.
Because, two months into university and three weeks into his crush, Kei’s roommate got a boyfriend.
A very. Very. Attractive boyfriend.
Jin stepped into their flat, with this beautiful newcomer in tow, and grinned lazily at Kei sitting on the couch.
“Tachikawa, this is my boyfriend Arashiyama Jun. You’ll probably be seeing a lot of him.”
Arashiyama Jun, much like his significant other, entered Kei’s life and went on to ruin it.
“Nice to meet you, Tachikawa-san!” Arashiyama said brightly. “I’ll try not to impose too much,” he continued, his voice as genuine as it was cheerful. Kei’s stomach did flips. It was probably doing an entire gymnastics routine, as he was forced to take in the affronting sight of his hot roommate leaning against his equally hot boyfriend, looking like they both expected Kei to be pleased about this development.
Newsflash, he fucking wasn’t.
He couldn’t say that though, so he just gave his usual easy smirk and said “Nice to meet you too, Arashiyama-san. Thank you for taking care of Jin for me.”
Jin’s smile turned eerie, which didn’t bode well for Kei. Arashiyama, in contrast, giggled, and the sound was potent enough to wipe the venomous grin off of Jin’s face completely. In its place, it left awed fondness and yeah, okay, Kei could get used to that.
Jin leaned in and pressed a kiss to Arashiyama’s cheek. Kei would definitely not like to have to get used to that. To hide the sudden spike of despair, he gagged.
“Jealousy is unbecoming, Tachikawa,” Jin sang as he lead Arashiyama to his room, “I’m sure you’ll find your special someone someday!”
He had some problems with that statement. Problems always had a solution, however. Kei had taken senior year chemistry. He knew what solution he needed.
When he woke up that morning, Kei was faced with an emotion he hated facing.
Regret.
His head pounded. Everything was too bright and too loud, and too much. Kei groaned, asking himself why he put himself through this and running through all of the other regretful and self-reflecting thoughts that he loathed to have. Kei tried to be a man of little regrets. He was sure that, in the space of a mere twelve hours, he had ruined that title for himself.
He stumbled out of bed and into the shower. It took a while for him to deem himself as alive enough to enter the kitchen and scavenge for sustenance, but he had sorely misjudged the situation. He hadn’t factored in his biggest uncontrolled variable—the person whose unpredictability would’ve thrilled him on any other day.
It just so happened that today, Jin Yuuichi stood in their shared kitchen, a frankly lovely apron tied around his waist as he cooked.
Jin looked up at the sound of Kei’s footsteps. “Good morning, Tachikawa,” he said, the amused look on his face telling Kei that it was definitely no longer morning. “I’m cooking lunch for Jun. Do you want me to make you something?”
Wow, there was a fucking lot to unpack there. The fact that Jin could cook did not help in assuaging Kei’s big ugly crush on him. The fact that he was doing it in a beautiful polka dotted red apron, if anything, made his big ugly crush even worse.
And then there was this Jun. Jun? Jun who?
Oh.
Right.
Arashiyama Jun. Arashiyama Jun, the gorgeous boyfriend, whose existence had driven Kei to such desperation last night that he had to go drink to forget.
It had been a success. He had forgotten, but now it was all rushing back in apron induced clarity. Arashiyama was coming over for lunch. A lunch that Jin, his boyfriend had lovingly cooked. And on top of that, Jin was offering to cook for Kei as well?
If he was forced to sit through lunch with the happy couple, Kei might spontaneously combust.
“No thanks, I won’t risk food poisoning today,” Kei responded, because if he had nothing else he had his terrible personality to fall back on. Jin, as always, took it well, laughing as he turned back to the stove.
Kei returned to his room, hungry and deep in his feelings. There was only one person he could turn to.
Izumi was laughing. It was enough to make Kei want to punch him, except he refrained because he cared very deeply for Izumi and because he knew that the only reason he could pour out his woes like this was because Izumi found them hilarious.
“Stop it,” Kei said halfheartedly, pretending like he wasn’t getting caught up in the absurdity of the situation as well. “You suck. I’m withering away over here, and you’re laughing at me?”
Izumi snickered some more, then took a bite of his croquette to focus his mind. Once he had finished chewing, he put a thoughtful look on his face. Kei knew that this look forebode something intensely profound or some absolute bullshit, and he hoped that it would be one of those rare moments for Izumi, wise beyond his years.
“Just have sex with them both. Couples do that all the time, don’t they? Get an addon for one night? Get the feeling out of your system and then move on.”
Ah, so absolute bullshit was on the menu today.
“That’s absolute bullshit,” Kei wasted no time saying.
Izumi grinned. “Yeah, I figured. I’m seventeen though, so I don’t know what amazing advice you’re expecting me to give here.”
He was right, but the Venn diagram of people who were Kei’s friends and people who were willing to listen to his bullshit had a very, very small crossover.
“You could give some fresh, young perspective on the situation,” Kei pointed out.
Izumi rolled his eyes. “You aren’t that much older than me.”
“Please pick an angle and keep to it?”
Izumi put down his croquette. It was very striking, and Kei shut up immediately.
“Just,” and Izumi vaguely waved his hand, “tell them. From what I’ve gathered about this Jin, the worst that could happen is that he makes lighthearted fun of you about it for a while,”
Goddamn, he was right. The croquette had been placed down for good reason. Getting lectured by a seventeen-year-old was probably where you had to draw the line in making excuses for running away from your feelings.
“Thanks for nothing,” Kei said, just to keep up appearances.
Right, so. He was still running away from his feelings. He believed that he couldn’t shoulder the blame completely. Tachikawa Kei was a man of limited talents; he was pretty much only good at kendo and annoying people, and confessing to his two crushes that were also in a relationship required neither of those skills. It had been a good three weeks now, of dancing around Jin and Arashiyama and pretending that he wasn’t extremely attracted to the both of them.
It did not help that Jin had not been lying when he had said that Arashiyama would be over a lot; Kei thought he could handle Jin on his own, but with Arashiyama and their awful, terrible (really adorable) PDA coming into play? Kei didn’t stand a chance.
It was getting too much to bear. Izumi had been busy with high school lately, giving Kei little chance to vent. He would use kendo as an outlet but Jin was still in the club, still distracting Kei with every fluid motion and controlled swing. It was infuriating. It was made even worse by the fact that Kei found himself falling harder because of how infuriating it was, because he couldn’t be normal about his feelings. Oh no. He had to fall harder for people who pissed him off, got his blood pumping and his adrenaline rushing and not in the fun way.
However, his moment of salvation presented himself. Jin had informed him earlier that from now on, he would be working Friday nights. Meaning that Kei had the flat all to himself, to mope around and pine as he pleased.
He shoved the key in the door, pushing it open and being greeted by a completely dark apartment. It was blissful . Not even bothering to turn the lights on, he walked through the living room guided by his phone light only, making a beeline for the kitchen.
He turned the lights on in here, pulling open the fridge as he pressed call on Izumi’s number, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder.
Izumi, ever dependable, picked up on the second ring.
“ Hey. Haven’t heard from you in a while.”
Kei scoffed. As if Izumi didn’t know the reason for that. “Yeah,” he said into the phone, “because the last time I tried you had a nervous breakdown about your history assignments and I had to stop you hyperventilating over the phone.”
Izumi’s chuckle was slightly distorted, but he sounded as amused as he ever did.
“ How is your romantic conquest going?”
Kei sighed, pulling out a box of mochi from the fridge.
“It’s not going. It’s stopping. The only thing that’s going is my sanity. Going far, far away.”
Izumi didn’t dignify that, admitted pathetic response, with a reply. Kei groaned as he tried to gauge how many mochis he could fit in his mouth at once.
“I just like them both so much, Izumi. This is terrible. I hate having feelings. I miss the days where the only feelings I would have were sword-fighting feelings.”
Izumi, apparently feeling merciful today, gave a sympathetic hum.
“ You do like kendo a lot, ” he agreed.
“I do,” Kei replied mournfully, “and now I like Jin and Arashiyama a lot too. This relationship isn’t working out. I feel like I’m cheating on kendo.”
“Poor you, having emotions like all the rest of us, ” and there it was, because Izumi couldn’t bear to be nice to Kei for too long.
Kei didn’t respond to this, just simply groaned into the receiver.
“So is this call just to complain about your love life, or did you need something else ,” Izumi asked. There was the telltale sign of paper flipping, and Kei felt vaguely bad for distracting him from homework.
He answered “Well, yes. This call is for complaining to you about how deep in like I am with Jin Yuuichi and Arashiyama Jun, but since you asked: how many mochis do you think I can fit in my mouth at once?”
Kei never got the chance to hear Izumi's answer, because as soon as he said that, the living room light flickered on.
Kei jumped, letting out a yelp as he turned to the living room.
Oh, fuck him to all fucking hell. He should quit life right now, retire to a mountain cave and spend the rest of his time teaching passing strangers sword technique.
Arashiyama Jun stood, by the light switch, hair still mussed and down from where he had been assumedly napping? On the couch? Where he could probably very clearly hear Kei’s heated conversation with Izumi about how much Kei liked him?
Mountain cave, here he came.
“Tachikawa,” Arashiyama said and Kei couldn’t pretend that his heart didn’t jump at the lack of honorifics, “I think we should talk.”
Kei really didn’t think they should talk, but with Arashiyama’s persistent and gentle gaze on him, he really has no choice but to comply.
Phone left forgotten on the kitchen bench, he walked into the living room.
Arashiyama gestured towards the couch. They both took a seat, Kei pressing himself as far back as possible from where Arashiyama was.
“Tachikawa,” Arashiyama began, sounding like he was about to be reasonable. Not on Kei’s watch.
“Icanexplain,” he rushed, cutting off Arashiyama before he could make any wrong assumptions. “I guess I sort of have a crush on Jin and also on you and it’s not really sort of because I do but seriously it’s fine I’ll get over it really soon you don’t have to worry and I’m sorry if that’s weird but you can just forget it because in a few days it’ll be done with.”
He ran out of breath and settled for laughing weakly.
Arashiyama blinked at that, expression a little dazed as he took all of that in.
And then, like the sun rising, he began to laugh.
Kei hated himself. Kei hated himself because he was sitting here, watching his roommate’s boyfriend laugh and all he could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss the man in front of him. So badly. So badly his hands ached with it, more than they ached to be filled with the weight of a shinai on competition days.
“Oh, Tachikawa,” Arashiyama sighed, sounding delighted and breathless and gentle, “we knew.”
He wanted to wax poetic about Arashiyama’s goddamn smile some more, but that shut down his thought process quickly.
What. The. Fuck?
Arashiyama had the decency to look slightly ashamed. “We—me and Jin—we kind of figured that you liked us. You… weren’t exactly subtle?” And damn him, there was a hint of teasing in those last words, enough to make Kei’s heart start to pound. “It was cute.”
If Kei’s heart had been pounding before, now it was fucking battering at his chest.
Then, Arashiyama sighed, with an infinite amount of fondness. “Jin wanted to wait a little more before doing anything—he had a whole plan of action, actually, but now is as good a time as ever, I suppose.”
Kei was really not following this line of conversation.
Arashiyama put his hand on top of Kei’s. Okay. Okay, cool. That was fine.
Arashiyama caught Kei’s gaze and held it. That was fine too. Sure. Okay.
“Tachikawa Kei, will you go out with us?”
Yeah. Sure. This was fi—wait, what .
WHAT.
Arashiyama was still sort of holding his hand, and still staring into his eyes, so Kei was sure that he could tell when Kei started ascending into the next plane of existence. He didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t know if this was real.
“Y-yes?” Kei squeaked.
Arashiyama broke into a smile, blindingly beautiful and perfect and wonderful and Kei wanted to kiss him so badly—until he didn’t. He didn’t have to want anymore. Because, now, he could kiss him.
Before he could second-guess himself, Kei pushed forward and, with his eyes clenched shut, pressed a kiss to Arashiyama’s lips. It really wasn’t anything special but it was , and Kei was breathless when he pulled back to see Arashiyama’s awed fond expression.
Oh, he could definitely get used to this. Now, he had the chance.
With a grin that was a little more wicked than Kei would’ve expected, Arashiyama leaned back in.
On the kitchen bench, left forgotten and alone, his phone speakers crackled tinnily. “Tachikawa? Tachikawa-san? Are you alive? Did you actually shove twenty mochis in your mouth and choke and die? I’m so sorry I was only joking when I said that please don’t be dead or sue me please holy fuck ,”
When Jin finished his shift at work that night, he came home to the sight of Kei and Arashiyama sitting together on the couch. Arashiyama was reading a book, glasses out as he idly flicked the pages. Kei was curled up next to him, tapping away on his phone and occasionally sighing into the crook of Arashiyama’s neck.
They both looked up at the sound of the door opening, Kei staying silent as Jin took in the sight of them.
“Welcome home,” Arashiyama said sweetly. Jin did not reply to that. He didn’t greet them at all, in fact.
All he said was, “You didn’t.”
Arashiyama smiled. If you were looking closely—and Kei was looking very closely—the expression could pass as being coy. “I might have.”
“No. Tell me you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t ruin our beautiful plan to have him hanging on for a while longer. Tell me you didn’t squander the rest of my chances to watch him squirm and pine over us while thinking that we didn’t know.”
Jin didn’t sound that disappointed, and he didn’t look that disappointed as a wry smile took over his face. In fact, the only person feeling any sort of negative emotion in the room was Kei. It was lucky for Jin that Arashiyama had started giggling somewhere through his speech, because it was a lot harder to maintain indignant and justified rage when there was a probable angel laughing next to you.
“You bastard,” Kei hissed, sounding a lot less angry than he would’ve liked.
Jin just grinned, the terrible, lazy smile that never failed to make Kei’s gut churn, and before he knew it he was already giving in. Jin stepped over to them, settling himself on the other side of Kei.
Arashiyama put his book down, meeting eyes with Jin over Kei’s head. It was all very worrying, but Kei couldn’t muster up the concern. Arashiyama and Jin brought many things into his life; ruin, laughter, good food, but there was always a few things that were guaranteed. Kei would never know what to expect, and he would never get used to it.
He liked it like that.
“Congratulations,” Izumi declared, holding up his can of green tea. “To months of sexual tension, finally resolved.” Kei had nothing else to do in response except grin and clink his own can of green tea to Izumi’s.
“And need I remind you, who called it from the start?” Izumi said as he brought the can to drink. Kei rolled his eyes, but he conceded the loss to Izumi regardless. Izumi had called it, after all.
“Now,” Izumi said, rolling his shoulders, “time for me to pour out my romantic woes to you ,”
Kei laughed raucously.
“It all started when my friend Karasuma introduced me to his debate team,”