Chapter Text
They were sitting together one night, a couch in a shared living space, television playing some drab reality show they were both mercilessly criticizing, thighs pressed up together in a way they both liked but neither would acknowledge. It was 7pm on a Thursday, Ogata had originally come over to the apartment Sugimoto seemed to both own and communally share with almost all of their shared acquaintances to help study for a test, and after two hours it was seen as a lost cause. This was, fortunately for Sugimoto’s crush but unfortunately for his grades, the usual fair for the two of them.
The TV had lulled into background noise as a commercial began to play- something about toothpaste, or maybe a toothbrush, Sugimoto didn’t care that much, it was dollar store brands all the way for him. The heater was being crappy, so the two of them had his only warm blanket thrown across their laps, and Ogata had slowly throughout the program tipped to the side more and more, until now he was leaning against Sugimoto’s shoulder, practically pressed up against his side. It was just because it was cold, probably, and even if the blanket was warm compared to the others, it wasn’t that warm overall. It was self preservation or something, probably. Sugimoto wasn’t going to ask- if he did Ogata would probably get defensive, and then move to the other side of the couch, maybe even forsake the blanket too. He didn’t really want that, so he kept himself quiet on the subject, and enjoyed how the other’s warmth seeped through him and his voice rumbled across as he continued criticizing the last cliffhanger the dumb show had left on.
Now they were sitting in silence though, and Sugimoto wasn’t sure if he’d missed something he was supposed to respond to, or if Ogata had just decided he was done speaking. A frown was forming on his face as he racked his brain for anything he may have in the past few moments before his thoughts were interrupted by Ogata shifting and sitting back up (to Sugimoto’s disappointment). He twisted where he sat, arm lifted up to rest on the back of the couch, bent at the elbow and hand supporting his head, fingers sliding up to the top of his head where they could disappear under his perpetually-slicked-back hair. Sugimoto gave a quizzical look and twisted slightly in return, studying Ogata’s face. He had an almost unreadable expression on, deadpan but not the usual one, something like a shield to hide whatever else he was thinking up. Sugimoto, for the life of him, couldn’t imagine what it might be.
Finally Ogata scrunched up his face a little bit, half glaring at him before he opened his mouth and spoke, “Sugimoto… I’m taking you out. Tomorrow. After class.”
Wait. What the fuck? What was that supposed to mean?
“What the hell?”
Ogata seemed, surprised? by his reaction (why he had no idea, since whatever Ogata had just said was pretty much indecipherable as far as intentions went) and shifted again, sitting up straight and running a hand through his hair.
“I want to take you out. Tomorrow.”
Sugimoto stared at him, making sure the confusion in his brain was clear on his face. Ogata was starting to more than half glare at him now- maybe it was a three quarter glare?
“Permanently. I want to be the one to take you out.”
Sugimoto looked to the side, wondering what the fuck was happening. Take him out? Tomorrow? Permanently? It was all so… ominous. What did it mean? Unless…
“You want me dead?” It was the only conclusion he could come up with, and while he didn’t put it past Ogata he was still hurt by it- he thought they were at least friends. He’d even started considering Ogata his best friend, with how often they’d been spending time together recently.
Ogata blinked once, then twice, then seemed to look… hurt? Was that possible? Then he scowled a little, “No, idiot, I want to take you out.”
“So you want to be the one to kill me? Not much of a difference from-”
“No!”
Ogata was frowning now, angry. Sugimoto just stared, frown forming more in response to Ogata’s anger than anything else- he was being ridiculously cryptic! How else was he supposed to interpret ‘I want to take you out’? How was this his fault? Ogata ran his hand through his hair again before crossing his arms, looking even angrier now.
“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go,” He said it loud enough for Sugimoto to hear, but with a tone that seemed like he was merely speaking to himself. Too bad, Sugimoto was annoyed by whatever… thing was happening here too.
“This wasn’t how what was supposed to go? Because it sure does sound like one of my closest friends wants me to, I don’t know, die? Or disappear? I honestly don’t get how I was supposed to take that-”
“Closest friends?” Ogata interrupted him, tone somehow lacking the anger that was there just moments before, face overtaken by surprise. Sugimoto paused, not sure what he was supposed to say now. Sugimoto wasn’t the best when it came to words, or letting people know how much they meant to him- he was more of an action oriented person, expressed his care through the little things, and (mainly) by being protective of them. Usually it was enough, so why did Ogata seem so confused?
Oh no- did he have to actually...confirm it? It shouldn’t be that hard, but something was making the words stick to his throat. This sort of thing always seemed to happen, especially with Ogata. It always felt like words would get brushed aside, but at least with actions they couldn’t be disputed. Ogata was still looking at him in confusion, though, waiting for an answer.
Sugimoto cleared his throat, looking at a spot over Ogata’s shoulder, not willing to meet his eyes, “Well, yea, you’re, uh… you’re important to me, I guess,”
“You guess?” The smugness was practically oozing out of him, but there was something else. Sugimoto looked him straight in his eyes now, annoyed.
“No- there’s no guessing, not in that part, but you’re making it kind of hard when you still haven’t explained whatever the hell it was you were trying to say.”
Ogata blinked at him again before huffing, this time being the one to break eye contact and glance to the side, “I just…” He trailed off. Sugimoto waited as patiently as he could for the rest of the sentence. Ogata’s eyes darted back to him before he looked back away, was he… blushing?
“I just….” he looked back suddenly, angry, “Fuck you, actually.”
“Fuck me?” Sugimoto repeated, incredulous, anger flaring up, “No! Fuck you! What’s so hard about explaining whatever the hell you were saying, huh? You don’t- you don’t get to say ‘fuck you’ after you drag genuine emotions out of me!”
Ogata looked away again, slouching and uncrossing his arms to run both his hands through his hair, biting his lip. Who allowed him to look good while doing that? Especially when Sugimoto was too busy being rightfully angry to appreciate it? Ogata slouched some more before taking in a fast breath and exhaling loudly through his nose. He looked up at Sugimoto again, eyebrows scrunched together, mouth tugged down at the edges.
“I just…” He visibly grit his teeth, “I wanted to take you out,”
“Yea, so you’ve said,”
“I wanted ” He repeated over Sugimoto, louder this time, “To take you out on a date ,” he forced out, still angry, though at this point Sugimoto wasn’t sure who he was angry at more. Sugimoto stared at him blankly, trying to understand exactly how Ogata had expected him to connect ‘I want to permanently take you out’ to ‘will you go on a date with me’. It was long enough for Ogata to huff and sink into the couch,
“Well?”
Sugimoto barked out a laugh, and at the the angry glare he received he devolved into hopeless giggles at how dumb the entire exchange had been and how utterly Ogata it was. Of course this fucking idiot would make it sound like a death threat. Sugimoto tried to make up for it, though, by reaching an arm out to grip his shoulder comfortingly. It backfired when he started laughing again, though, and his hand slid until his arm was curled around Ogata’s back and he was leaning over him as he laughed. Ogata glared resolutely at the television screen that had long since gone back to the program before elbowing him in the gut. He only sort of deserved it.
He wiped the corners of his eyes as he set up, mostly for comedic effect but also to stop himself from laughing some more,
“You know, there are so many easier ways for you to have asked that.”
Ogata glared at him some more, but he was still somewhat sunk into the couch, and his eyes kept darting to his shoulder, refusing to hold eye contact for more than a few moments. Sugimoto felt his expression soften, the light teasing seeping out of him when he remembered how much Ogata seemed to hate being genuine about anything like this,
“I’d very much like to go on a date with you,” He supplied, watching Ogata practically reinflate as he sat up straighter, running his hand through his hair with a smug expression, practically preening, “As long as you don’t try to kill me.”
This time he really did deserve the elbow in his gut, but it also barely had any force in it as Ogata abruptly turned back to face the TV and leaned back against him, head nestled slightly below and to the side of his chin, just shy of the spot where his neck met his shoulder.
“Won’t be a problem.”
Sugimoto was glad for the position for two reasons; the first being that it was very, very nice to feel Ogata’s heat against him, nestled like he belonged there, the second being that it meant his beaming grin was blessedly unnoticed. He’d probably never live it down if Ogata saw it. Maybe. The chance was definitely there. Then he realized that now his arm was still in the vicinity of the top of the couch, and he didn’t really want to keep it there, but…
His eyes darted to his hand, then to Ogata’s, then back to his, and back again like the two hands were players in a tennis match and he was frantically keeping track of the ball. Finally he lowered his arm down so it bent at his elbow and wrapped around Ogata’s waist, taking hold of one of the hands resting there. He could feel his face heating up and glared at the ceiling- it was just a hand! Why was he blushing? What was he, twelve?
Suddenly self-conscious he cleared his throat, “This is, uh, this is okay, right?”
Ogata snorted but gave his hand a supportive squeeze, “Yea, it’s more than okay, idiot.”
Sugimoto grumbled unintelligibly, mainly for show, and then the two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence. He had mostly forgotten about whatever reality show they had been watching, too lost in the way Ogata’s hand felt in his, the way their body heat mingled, the way he could feel Ogata’s heartbeat drum through him, when Ogata gestured angrily with his free hand.
“I just don’t understand how stupid some of these people are, honestly! It infuriates me, why would you…”