Work Text:
"I hate ferris wheels."
The look Kunimi levels at Kindaichi says, So why are we here, then? though there's nothing in his face that suggests he really believes him. There's nothing readable in his bored expression at all, just his usual disinterest.
Thinking that there's not much more of this he can take, Kindaichi grips the side of their passenger car tighter as their third ascent begins. He's acutely and painfully aware of the centimeters separating him from Kunimi, glad for once that he forgot his jacket; his nerves have set his skin to burning.
Kunimi had remembered his hoodie. He's as calm and cool as ever, even as they go up and up and up, outpacing the sinking sun on their own descent.
By the time they reach their fourth go, the wheel starts to turn reluctantly, the so-far smooth ride giving way to a few bumps that jostle their car. The lights grow smaller and the din of the crowd below fades with the warring scents of too many kinds of good food, until it’s just Kindaichi and Kunimi in their pod once more.
Up until now, it hadn’t been a bad date, but it wasn't necessarily a good one either. Kunimi hadn’t been any more quiet than normal, but Kindaichi had panicked because coming here was his idea, and it didn't look like Kunimi was particularly enjoying the sights and smells the fair had to offer. He’d hardly touched Kindaichi all evening, maintaining a polite (at best) distance between their bodies.
Then Kindaichi had seen them: the too-bright lights flashing along the spokes of the ferris wheel, the dance of the kaleidoscopic colors hypnotizing and magnetic. He'd thought trading one set of nerves for another was a...a good idea? Why had he thought this was a good idea again?
Kindaichi really doesn't know why: Was it to impress Kunimi? To get closer to him? To see if he could crack Kunimi's cold act and see beneath the veneer of boredom? He didn't have to put his neck out like this to know Kunimi wasn't afraid of anything. Kunimi never had been. Or he'd never shown it, anyway, and if there was ever something he feared, he buried it so deep nobody, not even Kindaichi, would ever find it.
The pit of anxiety in Kindaichi’s stomach is a gaping maw now, churning and angry. He wishes on the first star he can find in twilight’s wake that he knew how to hide his feelings like Kunimi does.
Kindaichi wouldn’t have known the car had stopped moving if not for the abrupt jerkiness of its halt. The metal creaks and groans nightmarishly, and Kindaichi nearly bites his own tongue off to stifle a yelp. He knows ferris wheels stop on occasion, so passengers can take a moment to enjoy the view, but nothing happens for so long that panic creeps in and paralyzes him with a hot-cold sensation that buzzes just underneath his skin.
The car sways in the wind, and Kindaichi glances at Kunimi to see if there’s a change in his demeanor now, or if he notices how close he is to snapping, how his body is wracked with shivers, how his fingers curl around the edge of their cage -- this death trap they're stuck in, that he’s brought them on -- so tightly the whites of his knuckles are garish against his chafed skin.
“Hey, uh, Kunimi, I, uh--”
"You don't hate ferris wheels," Kunimi deadpans. He tips his head to peer over the side of the car, and Kindaichi’s stomach turns faster than some of the other rides they walked past to get here.
Kindaichi can't make himself look and see where they're stopped -- he knows they're too far away from the ground. He can’t make himself move at all. This was a stupid, stupid, stupid idea, and he doesn’t realize he’s spoken aloud until he feels Kunimi’s eyes boring into him.
“W--what?”
"You're afraid of heights."
Kindaichi feels too open, too bare. He aches. He can't ground himself like he needs to with so much space separating them. He croaks some kind of unintelligible answer and squeezes his eyes shut, willing the stupid ride to be fixed so they can get the hell off of it and go home.
Then there’s a gentle touch at his wrist that turns more persistent as hands pry Kindaichi's fingers from the metal. He can’t be bothered to resist, and instead just hangs his head lower.
"Stop fighting with yourself so much, Yuutarou." The way Kunimi murmurs his name makes Kindaichi’s heart pound harder, but in a different way. “It’s okay to be afraid.”
Kindaichi stills and looks up at Kunimi, really looks at him, as he brings Kindaichi’s fingers to his lips, breathing his warmth over them, turning them over and tracing the lines, that same bored look on his face but this time it doesn’t make Kindaichi sad or afraid or nervous.
Kunimi says it against Kindaichi’s knuckles, his lips pressed so close he can feel every tiny movement against his skin. Eyes locked on Kindaichi, he scatters kisses all over his hands, some soft as a whisper, others hard enough that Kindaichi will still feel them later as he lies awake in bed, heart still racing.
But in that moment Kindaichi can’t look away either, and feels the steadiest he’s been since they stepped inside the car.