Work Text:
---FRIDAY---
Arakita had to admit Kinjou was smart. Getting a driver’s license? Smart. Driving to races? Smart. Driving into the mountains for a weekend of biking? Fucking ingenious. Sleeping in the back of a car, though? Well, he was starting to have his doubts.
He hadn't seen any problem with it when they were planning this whole thing. What college student wouldn't want to avoid hotels or hostels or literally anything that cost money? They still had a few years before they had to worry about things like back pain anyway. But now that they were here, crammed in the back of a hatchback, dusk reflecting off the windshield, the smell of pine and the sound of cicadas pouring in through the cracked windows; now it seemed like a very bad idea indeed.
"I gotta piss." There. Mood ruined. Perfect.
Kinjou fumbled for the keys, eventually managing to pop the trunk. "I guess I should be happy you're properly hydrated."
"Ha ha," Arakita deadpanned as he clambered out of the car.
The open-air park bathrooms weren't particularly reassuring. It smelled as expected. The single sticky fly trap hanging in the corner was well past capacity. Someone had carved a crudely formed yet distinctive "FUCK" in the plywood partition. It wasn't for lack of amenities, however, that Arakita wanted to immediately get on his bike and ride all the way back to Shizuoka.
"Shit," he sighed as he allowed himself to sink against the wall. "This...sucks."
As much as he hated to admit it, Arakita was happy. Happy with school, happy with cycling, happy with friends, and happy spending more and more time with Kinjou Shingo. He was happy; and that scared him.
In some ways, it had been easier in high school when no one knew his name. When even fewer people thought he'd ever be anything. Since coming to Yonan, he'd started to realize he didn't really know how to deal with things being good. Was this real? Did he deserve it? Would he just fuck it up?
It was times like these that Arakita had to stop and ask himself: what would Fuku-chan do? Probably not stand around in a decrepit bathroom worrying about how he got there, for one. Or get caught up in self-doubt, much less, dare he say it, romantic feelings. No, there was only one way out; and that way was forward.
Rolling his shoulders, Arakita took a steeling breath. He marched back to the car, crawled back into their makeshift camper, and promptly assumed a sprawling starfish position spanning the entirety of their sleeping space and, coincidentally, its other inhabitant.
"Are you planning on sleeping like this, then?" Kinjou asked.
Arakita grunted in the affirmative.
"Ah," Knjou acknowledged with not a small hint of exasperation; but he made no move to dislodge himself and they remained like that until morning.
---SATURDAY---
Kinjou had to say, he was pretty smart. Getting Arakita to go to driving school with him? Smart. Getting Arakita to buy a used car with him? Smart. Getting Arakita to himself for a whole weekend? Possibly the dumbest decision he'd ever made.
There were few other ways to describe it: Arakita was getting...handsy. It wasn't necessarily unexpected for him to show little regard for things like personal space. Kinjou had more than enough first-hand experience glancing over during movie marathons wondering if it was just his imagination that he was sitting closer than before, only to end up with a lap full of feet. Or torso. Or the occasional tragically placed elbow. What was unexpected was receiving unsolicited help with his sunscreen, getting a near bruising number of jovial punches in the side, and waking up to a head on his shoulder and breath on his neck.
Despite setting out to get closer to Arakita, Kinjou hadn't really thought about what to do after that. Other than kiss him a lot, of course. But it hadn't occurred to him that he’d already be at the “casual physical affection” stage of the weekend, let alone on the receiving end of it.
And so it was that Kinjou found himself more winded than usual as Arakita pulled to a stop beside him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Not tired already, are ya, Shingo-chan? We still have two more days ahead of us."
"I couldn't make it too easy,” Kinjou shot back. “Can't have you getting bored, after all."
"Yeah, you always pick good routes. I thought you didn't like crazy downhill cornering, though."
"I don't, but you do."
Arakita snarled in a way that Kinjou now recognized as a grin. "Has anyone ever told you you're too nice for your own good?"
Kinjou smiled. "It's worth the effort." If Arakita was going to keep making him weak in the knees with physical contact all weekend, he could take advantage of his weakness too - shameless earnesty.
"Being a sap makes you that happy, huh."
"Seeing you have fun does."
There it was. The split second of deer-in-the-headlights Arakita caught completely off guard by simple consideration. But instead of coming back with his usual "shut up" or "that's dumb" or "go fuck a sea urchin," he forcefully maintained eye contact. And just as Kinjou thought he might say something, he slapped Kinjou's back with the force of a freight train. Seeming to stop and consider if that was sufficient, he did it twice more before turning away and coasting towards the car, neck barely visible but noticeably red.
Despite his stinging shoulder, Kinjou decided to count that as a win.
---
That evening they stopped at a family restaurant for a cheap but large dinner and a halfhearted attempt at homework before hitting the road again. The sun yet hung low over the horizon, but Arakita could already feel himself growing sleepy. Turning subtly, he could examine Kinjou as he drove. All quiet focus and sharp features against the bursting color of the sky. Confident but humble. Smart but approachable. Handsome but somehow paradoxically not maddeningly irritating.
Kinjou glanced over. Happening to meet Arakita's gaze, he smiled. Okay, sometimes the bastard was pretty maddeningly handsome.
Arakita returned his attention to the passing scenery, deciding it definitely did not look like he just spent half the ride staring at Kinjou. But he'd told himself he wouldn't run away from this. He’d go forward, forward, only forward. So, looking ahead, he shifted his arm on the center console until their elbows bumped. He swore he could sense him look over again, but he glued his eyes to the road as Kinjou readjusted himself so that their forearms lay flush against each other.
They stayed like that in silence as they drove. Arakita chewed the inside of his cheek as the road stretched on behind them. With just the barest of movements, if he just slid his fingers over the hand not millimeters from his own -
But then they were on an exit ramp and Kinjou was using both hands to make a tight turn onto a narrow rural road. Arakita withdrew his hand, now chilled despite the muggy air.
---
Kinjou was the second to sponge down, the details of which he thought he would happily exclude from the account of his life should it ever happen to be narrated.
He found the car seats already folded down and covered in picnic blankets. Arakita sat looking at his phone, legs dangling out the open trunk.
“Hey.” Kinjou leaned in from above, peeking at his screen. “What’s up?”
Arakita shrugged, setting his phone aside. “Not much.” Leaning back, he looked up to meet Kinjou’s eyes. The glisten of his still damp hair and the jut of his collarbone from his oversized V-neck would have all but made up for his resting glower if Kinjou didn’t find that cute too. “Whaddya wanna do until bed?”
What he wanted to do was crawl right onto his lap and stay there til dawn. Instead, he settled for bracing his arms against the car frame and casually leaning in to his space. “I dunno. There’s supposed to be an overlook about a kilometer up the hiking trail if you wanted to check that out.”
Arakita looked down at his flipflops and then at Kinjou’s sports sandals. “You really are prepared for everything.”
“Come on,” Kinjou prodded. “I’ll carry you back if you can’t make it the whole way.”
He probably deserved the kick he got to his shin in response. “Wouldn’t want you to throw out your back. What are you, a middle-aged tourist?”
Kinjou glanced down at his polo and khaki shorts. “Should I have gone with the neon windbreaker?”
Arakita snorted and hopped out of the car. “Let’s go. Can’t keep gramps out too late.”
The trail was well maintained and easily walkable. Kinjou thought it could stand to be a little narrower as a pretext for how often he let their knuckles brush together, but he would work with what he had. If he were a better man, he might take note of the golden sunlight filtering through the treetops or the distant smell of charcoal fires wafting through the air or the fireflies starting to blink into existence amidst the brush. As it was, however, the only thing he could process was the brush of Arakita’s shoulder against his own as they strolled through the woods.
The overlook was, as the signs claimed, scenic. Maybe not racing-up-the-slopes-of-Mt-Fuji scenic, but something had to be said for rose-colored glasses. Distant mountains, verdant hills, and a lake below did nothing to move him so much as Arakita cursing under his breath as he squinted against the sun.
“Shingo-chan. Gimme your sunglasses, I can’t see shit.”
Ignoring the obvious you know you can’t see out of my glasses we’ve tried this, Kinjou led the way to the railing. “Come here, let’s get a picture.”
“Do we have to?” Despite his complaints, Arakita readily slung his arm over his shoulders and assumed his best posturing grimace for several selfies. He stayed draped over him as they deleted half of them, tried again, and finally narrowed it down to two that were decent enough to share with their respective group chats.
“This one’s better, you’re actually smiling,” Kinjou teased, trying to find a way to nonchalantly rest his hand on Arakita’s shoulder.
“No, that one sucks. Use the first one.”
“Why? It looks nice.” Shoulder? No, maybe back. Waist? Not waist.
“My hair’s messy.”
“I thought that was your thing.” Shoulder. It had to be shoulder.
“What would you know about it?” Arakita gave him a quick noogie, completely derailing his bodily composition efforts. “Some of us don’t roll out of bed with stupid handsome faces.”
Kinjou had to do a double-take at that. “What do you mean?” But Arakita had already disentangled himself and walked away, tapping at his phone.
“Ha! Shinkai says you do dress like a dad.”
Kinjou rubbed the back of his head where he could still feel the dull scratch of fingernails. He wasn’t used to being speechless.
---SUNDAY---
Arakita didn’t want to get up. More importantly, he didn’t want Kinjou to get up. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he decided he quite liked the feeling of being tucked under this arm and had no desire to move. Spooning? Was he being spooned? That didn’t seem right. If anything, he thought he should be a spooner, not a spoonee. Kinjou did have broader shoulders, though. And arms. Those arms. No cyclist needed arms like that. A swimmer or a triathlete, maybe. Or one of those rugby guys, the ones who did all the tackling. What were they called? He didn’t know anything about rugby.
He was pulled from his barely lucid thoughts by Kinjou shifting behind him. And then shifting again. And again.
Arakita sat up. “Would you stop scratching?!”
Kinjou blinked to life. “G’morng,” he mumbled, still scratching at his leg.
“Do you have fleas or something?”
Kinjou glanced down, obviously still catching up to reality. “Mosquitos.”
Looking closer, Arakita noticed several red bumps scattered over his legs and arms. “Oh man, they really got you. When did that happen? I don’t have any.”
“They like type O.” Kinjou flinched as Arakita slapped his hand.
“That’s not a thing. Now stop picking at it.”
---
The first leg of the day wasn’t challenging, though ignoring his itchiness certainly was. Kinjou noted another bite on his neck as he tried to focus on refilling their water bottles. He should have thought to bring bug spray. He should have picked a different camping spot. He should have told Arakita how he felt when they had the right ambience at the outlook instead of putting it off until he was a red, itchy husk of a man.
He heard the sound of the convenience store door across the parking lot, but didn’t process it until he felt sudden cold on the back of his neck. “Arakita!”
“Calm down.” Arakita waved a tube of hydrocortisone ointment in his face. “They said this would help.”
Kinjou willed his heart to slow down as Arakita’s hand returned to the back of his neck. “I can do it myself,” he offered with little conviction.
“Yeah, but you didn’t. So, suck it up.”
Kinjou obediently turned this way and that as Arakita combed over his arms for any trace of a bump. Smiling to himself, he mused, “I never thought of you has the caregiving type.”
Arakita grumbled. “You’d better not start now.”
“I’ll have to call you next time I get sick.”
“Why would I want your germs?” Arakita easily dropped into a yankee squat and started on his calves.
Kinjou picked a cloud to suddenly become very interested in. “I dunno. You wouldn’t come make me soup?”
“Ha! I can’t cook for shit.”
“Okay, canned soup.”
“You can make that yourself.” Arakita worked his way up his knees.
Kinjou dutifully followed his cloud as it drifted across the sky. He decided it looked like a koala. “Not if I’m sick.”
“How sick are you supposed to be?! I’m not bringing Campbell’s to your deathbed.” Kinjou jumped as Arakita’s finger grazed the hem of his lycra. “There. All done.”
Kinjou let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as Arakita got to his feet. “Thanks.”
Arakita jabbed the tube at his chest. “Now stop scratching.”
Mercifully, he then decided he needed to check his tire pressure before they headed out again, which gave Kinjou a moment to gather his bearings - and apologize to his koala friend for anything it may have seen.
---
It took Arakita a few kilometers to get his mind back on the wheels ahead of him and off of the legs turning them. Once he hit his stride, though, the next 50 fell behind them before he realized it. After that, the day became as much of a blur as the road beneath him. As they coasted to a stop at their last waypoint, he found himself wishing it weren’t almost over. Out of breath and with nothing to say anyways, he looked at Kinjou.
Kinjou smiled back at him. Not that little smirk he got when he came up with a good strategy, not the easy-going smile he seemed to have for everyone he met, not even the wry grin that graced his rare but laudable forays into sarcasm. Just big dumb happy smile on a big dumb happy face.
It was then that Arakita found himself thinking that he’d really like to keep biking together like this, not just for the weekend, or for the season, but for as long as he possibly could. With that in mind and not much else, he reached for Kinjou’s jersey. Drawn in by that ever-steady gaze, he leaned in.
And then their helmets collided.
Because of course you can’t just smash your face into someone else’s when your skull is buried two inches deep in polystyrene.
“Uh.” Kinjou coughed. “Are you okay?”
Arakita swore he saw his brief romanceless life pass before his eyes. “Of course I’m fine! What’s your problem?”
Kinjou appeared nonplussed.
Oh, great. Trust your mouth to get yourself out of the situation, Arakita. That never went wrong. There was only one thing left to do. The one mature thing to do.
Arakita rode the fuck away.
“Arakita?!”
Building speed, he called over his shoulder. “Last one to the car buys dinner!”
“What?!” Kinjou fumbled to get his cleats clipped in again. “Wait! What about cooldown?!”
Arakita snorted as he heard the telltale sound of gears shifting behind him. Feelings were complicated; cyclists were not.
---
Kinjou gave Arakita a run for his money, despite his delayed start. In the end, though, he couldn't quite edge him out. Instinctually, he wanted to rush right back out for a rematch, but practicality dictated that would have to wait until their next free weekend. So, he settled for making good on his less than volitional promise to pay for dinner. If nothing else, it was more than worth the fast food prices to see Arakita bristle at his follow-through on a one-sided wager.
After another half-hearted attempt at homework, they sponged down and set up camp at a rest stop back towards the highway. Few other travelers seemed to be on the move at this time of day, just as night began to wash over the horizon. Thus they found themselves, once again, setting out their bedding in the noisy silence of summer, all abuzz with crickets and frogs. Between their distance to cover and exhaustion from cycling, Kinjou was glad they'd decided to put off driving back until Monday. Weariness was not the only reason he was more than happy to settle in for the night, though.
"Oh my god," Arakita sighed as he stretched, arms reached out in front of him towards his toes. "I'm so sore."
"Too much cycling for you?" Kinjou smirked.
Arakita snorted. "You know that's not a thing."
Kinjou pushed on Arakita's shoulders, helping him lean deep into his stretch. "It doesn't feel like tomorrow should be Monday already."
"Oh yeah? Not sick of me yet?"
Kinjou briefly considered his response. If he was going to say anything, this was the time. "You know that's not a thing." He wondered if he was imagining how Arakita's neck seemed to heat beneath his thumbs. What would he do if he just leaned in and-
"Ow, ow, ow! Too far!"
"Oh- sorry!" Releasing him, Kinjou tried to shuffle backwards, bumping his head on the roof. "Ouch! Ah!"
They spent the next minute or so trying to rearrange themselves in a less painful configuration with mixed results.
Once they'd managed to discover the art of simply sitting cross-legged across from one another, Kinjou sighed. "Listen, um." Met with Arakita's unwavering but unreadable stare, he pressed onwards. It was now or never. "I'm just gonna say it before we make complete asses of ourselves." He took a deep breath and forced himself to focus.
"I had a great time this weekend. Not just this weekend, I always enjoy spending time with you." He ignored how Arakita's shoulders crept towards his ears. "Not just when we're cycling, but when we have class together or try to do study groups or...just hang out, I guess." He ignored how Arakita hung his head, bangs not quite managing to hide the pink of his cheeks. "What I'm trying to say is that you're important to me." He ignored how Arakita rocked forward onto his knees. "So I hope I'm not reading this wrong, but I really l-" He couldn't ignore Arakita grabbing the front of his shirt and ramming their mouths together.
It took a moment for Kinjou to catch up, but when he did, it was easy to melt more naturally into the contact. All too quickly, Arakita pulled away slightly. He could still feel his breath on his face as he whispered, "Shut up, Shingo-chan."
Kinjou nodded.
And then they were kissing again. Slow and tentative, committing to memory the shapes of each other's lips. Kinjou couldn't be bothered to finish what he was saying. What was he saying? It couldn't have mattered very much. Not nearly as much as Arakita sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. Or sliding his tongue across it. Or running his teeth over oh god-
Kinjou pushed Arakita back by the shoulders he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Gasping, he tried to regain his composure.
"Uh." Arakita cleared his throat. "My bad."
"No, it. It's fine. I-"
"No, I got it. No teeth. Just-"
"No, that's not. Um." Kinjou huffed, looking aside. "Maybe just. Not in a parking lot."
"Oh." Arakita blinked in his periphery. "Oh! Shit."
"Sorry."
"No, uh. Do you want me to-"
"No."
"Right. Should I-"
"Just. Give me a minute."
"Sure."
Kinjou closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pretended he wasn't having the most mortifying experience of his life. That he wasn't still alone with Arakita, that he wasn't losing his mind over a kiss, that he wasn't this close to throwing caution to the wind and going in for another. One more night sleeping together was starting to sound like the worst idea he'd ever had.
---MONDAY---
Arakita straightened his hair one more time before picking up his bag and turning to his side. "Dude, you look like shit."
"Huh?" Kinjou squinted into the dim morning light pouring into the dingy restroom. He'd apparently forgotten he was doing, as his toothbrush hung limply in his mouth.
"I said you look like shit!" Arakita repeated, louder this time but with little effect. "Did you sleep at all?”
He was met with the closest thing he’d ever seen to a glare on Kinjou’s face. Unfortunately for Kinjou, it looked more like he was doing an impression of a constipated elephant seal. “Whoshe fault ish that?”
“What, was I snoring or something?”
Kinjou’s expression shifted to more of a stubborn pout as he finally took the toothbrush out of his mouth. “You were…close.”
“We’re camping in a Corolla. We’ve been close.”
“Not like last night…”
Arakita blinked. “Wait a minute. “You couldn’t sleep because you were horny?!”
Kinjou flinched so hard he dropped his toothbrush. They both looked down at where it lay on the ground, no doubt already collecting all manner of bacteria. Kinjou sighed with a grimace, not even moving to pick it up.
With nothing else to offer, Arakita patted his shoulder. “Come on, get dressed. I’ll drive.”
“Okay.”
Shaking his head, Arakita turned and walked back towards the car. Was this an only child thing? Or a never lived in a dormitory thing? He couldn’t remember the last time he had enough privacy to be bothered with what his hormones were up to. Driving the whole way was going to be a pain, but some part of him felt giddy with pride that he’d managed to rattle the normally cool and collected Kinjou so easily. He’d have to tell Fuku-chan that his advice worked for more than just sports. Except Fuku-chan could never know about this. Not the making out in a car part, at least.
Shoving that thought to the back of his head, he double-checked the straps on their bike rack and started up the car. Scrolling through his phone, he chose not to think too hard about setting their recent selfie attempt as Kinjou's contact photo.
"Okay, I'm ready, I'm here."
Arakita swiped away from what he was doing as Kinjou climbed into the passenger seat. "Got your bag?"
Kinjou turned one way, then the other. "I'm not ready."
Arakita smiled despite himself as he watched him go trotting back to the bathrooms. If there was one thing he learned that weekend, it was this: Kinjou Shingo was a fucking idiot.
---
Kinjou didn't remember much of the drive home. He knew they stopped for lunch at some point and that a latte appeared in his cup holder somewhere along the way, but for the most part, he just let the white noise of the highway lull him into a shallow sleep. Part of him was still five different varieties of embarrassed about being (justifiably) accused of horniness in a public restroom, but somehow even that wasn’t enough to bring down the new weightlessness he felt in his chest. Both jittery and calm, eager and content, nervous and yet perfectly at ease; the dimensions of this emotion -whatever it was- seemed unfathomable, yet he wanted to know them all. In time, he supposed, he would.
Before he knew it, it was nearly evening and they were pulling to a stop in front of his dorm. Arakita had the hazards on and was nudging his shoulder.
"Hey, dumbass. We're here."
Kinjou yawned as they got out of the car. Watching Arakita climb onto the back bumper to unhitch his bike from the roof, he made some small effort to be subtle about staring. "Thanks for driving."
"Yeah, yeah. Wouldn't want you running us off the road."
Kinjou leaned against the roof, in no hurry to help Arakita leave sooner. "Happy to be back?"
"For school tomorrow?" Arakita scoffed, stretching to reach the right strap. "Hell no."
A passing car honked as it maneuvered around them in the narrow loading area. Kinjou waved in apology before turning back to his struggling teammate. "Really? Not even looking forward to being back in your own bed?"
Arakita stilled, profile barely visible. "Depends."
Kinjou took the bait. "Depends on what?"
Arakita straightened up, still perched on the bumper. "If you're-"
Another car honked behind them.
"Go around, asshole!" Arakita yelled as it pulled around.
Kinjou tried to shake off the interruption once more. "What were you saying?"
"I said it depends," Arakita huffed as he hopped down from the bumper. He paused and met his eyes with a sidelong glance. "If you're in it."
Kinjou wondered for a moment if his heart had stopped - but it hadn't. So he got back in the car.