Work Text:
“So, today I have prepared salmon with – what is that?”
Hakaze raises his eyebrows, gesturing after a moment with the strange box he is holding.
“This? Yeah, sorry – I forgot we were doing a club lunch thing today.”
“Even so, it is not healthy to be snacking – a proper meal is much...” The more Souma squints at it the more sure he is that the packaging is in another language. “What does that say?”
Hakaze turns it around and shrugs. “No idea. Adonis-kun was offering them around at practise yesterday. Seems he got kind of a care package from home with sweets?”
“Ah, yes!” Souma nods. “This morning, he did offer something to me. However, I was rather busy preparing for an English test...”
“Mm, that’s a shame. They’re really nice.” Hakaze pops another of the little things into his mouth.
A care package… Souma wonders whether Adonis might’ve often eaten something like that back in his home country.
“Ahh, it’s pretty nice when these things work out, really~” Hakaze adds, setting the box aside and taking up his chopsticks. Reluctantly, Souma places his plate in front of him. “It’s good to have a friend who wants to share these things, y’know? I mean, I’m not much one for sweet things honestly, but snacks are good no matter what, right?”
“Ah, yes. I have often enjoyed the suggestions Adonis-dono has made – the ‘kebabu’, for instance.”
“Mm, mm!” Hakaze nods happily. “And he gets so happy about it! He really loves it when other people take an interest in his home country like that!”
Before Souma can respond, Buchou appears, expressing delight at the feast Souma has prepared as usual. But for once, Souma finds it hard to pay attention, too lost in thought.
Adonis-dono is certainly proud of his home… perhaps as much as I am of mine.
Yet when he thinks about it, strangely, he cannot think of many times he has gone out of his way to ask Adonis about it. Usually, it is Adonis who asks questions, or offers up interesting information.
Have I been negligent in our friendship…?
“Souma? Your ‘food’ is getting ‘cold’...”
“Ah, yes! Thank you, Buchou-dono!” Souma replies immediately, taking up his chopsticks.
It worries him.
*
Adonis blinks. “You want to learn Arabic?”
“Yes!” Souma adjusts his bag awkwardly over his shoulders. “I have always been interested in Adonis-dono’s home country, and I believe this would be a good way to learn more. And, spending time with you is always enjoyable.”
Adonis smiles, so earnest and cheerful that Souma immediately feels grateful that that man had (however unintentionally) revealed this clear flaw in their relationship to him.
“I’m very pleased to hear that,” he says. “I’d be happy to teach you.”
“And, as you have likely noticed, I often struggle with English...” In fact, it was that morning’s very test which gave him the idea. “Perhaps a different language would suit me better? I may come to see greater gains in my English learning henceforth.”
“Yeah, it sounds like a good idea.” Adonis takes up his own bag, eyes shining. “Hmm. I suppose we can start with the basics immediately… My house, then?”
“Certainly!”
As they walk, there is a spring in Souma’s step. He truly feels abashed that he has left this fault unnoticed for so long, and worries that Adonis hasn’t secretly been disappointed in his lack of clear curiosity all this time. But he does work hard to maintain his end of the relationship, and between this, the jogging they do together, and the bento he makes for him when he can, he likes to think that things are going rather well!
Inside they stop briefly to grab something to eat (sadly, Adonis has already made his way through the care package; Souma rushes to assure him that he isn’t upset) and then make their way up to his room.
“All right.” Adonis sits down on a cushion and Souma follows. “So, for Arabic… it might sound intimidating at first, but all languages do before you break them down.”
One and a half years of English study loom rather menacingly in Souma’s memory but he tries to ignore it.
“There are ways that Arabic might be easier for a Japanese speaker than English, I think. We read right to left, for example.”
“Ah… will I be learning the script as well?”
Adonis shakes his head. “That would take too long. It’s more important to be able to speak it.”
“That sounds like a good idea. So, Adonis-dono-sensei!” Souma raises his hand playfully. “How would I say ‘hello’ in Arabic?”
“Hm. Well, the formal way would be ‘as-salam alaykum.’”
Souma stares. “A-asu...” he trails off.
“Ah, is that too long? The more casual way is ‘ahlan’. This is what I’d say to you in the morning back home.”
“A, aafu… ran.”
Adonis smiles encouragingly.
“Right,” he says, then raises his hand in a wave. “Ahlan!”
“A-fu-ran,” Souma repeats.
“Ahh, it’s like we just met up for a jog.”
Souma chuckles wryly. “H-hmm, I’m not certain my pronunciation is that good, yet...”
“Have to begin somewhere. Next, ‘how are you’ is ‘kayfa ḥālak.’”
“There are an awful lot of ‘fu’ sounds… Ah, I mean, ‘hu’...”
“Hmm, I suppose so. Though that shouldn’t be too hard, I think. But there are some others with a ‘kh’ sound, in your throat, that aren’t really used in Japanese at all...”
Before Souma can even process the sound Adonis just made, Adonis asks him to repeat him.
“Oh, ah...k-keifou haaruku?”
“Close. ‘Kayfa ḥālak.”
Adonis patiently this process for several more greetings. All sound like they should be entirely simple and common phrases, but Souma struggles to manoeuvre his mouth and tongue properly, unable to even recognise the sounds in some places.
“...I truly apologise, Adonis-dono...” he says eventually, as Adonis’s smooth ‘motasharefon bema'refatek’ fades from hearing. “It seems I am no more talented at Arabic than I am at English...”
“It’s nothing to apologise for. I found Japanese very difficult at first, too.”
“...still. It… leaves me feeling rather ashamed, to struggle so with even one language when you are so proficient in two… not to mention paying such disrespect to your home country… If I may apologise-”
“I mean it. You’re trying hard to get to know my country better, right? That makes me really happy, regardless of anything else.”
Souma settles back, a little relieved, though he will admit that he is beginning to dread the new strange series of sounds Adonis will soon have him trying to replicate.
“...but. If you’re having difficulty, maybe there’s a better way...” Adonis puts a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “Pronunciation seems to be causing problems… but listening is easier, right?”
“Ah, yes! I always score higher in listening than in speaking for English.”
“Then, maybe it’d be better to simply teach you some common words. Though, just giving you a list wouldn’t be very fun...”
Souma waits, distracted for a moment by the way the orange afternoon light makes his friend’s hair seem to shine.
“I have it.” Souma blinks, a little startled, as Adonis shifts forward, kneeling in front of him.
“I can teach you the parts of the body. It’s less practically useful than greetings, but I already told you the important ones, anyway.”
“Oh. Yes, that does sound a little easier.” Souma smiles, grateful to have such an understanding friend.
“All right. In that case, please touch me.”
For a moment, Souma says nothing.
“...e-er...”
“Touch parts of my body,” Adonis says, as calmly as ever. “And I will tell you the Arabic words for them.”
Souma swallows, suddenly nervous. “A-ah. Yes, of course.”
He hesitates. Absently, he rubs his palm against his own knee, feeling rather sweaty. Shouldn’t it be enough to touch his own body, he wonders? But it’s not as though he has any reason not to touch Adonis, either.
Uncertainly, he reaches his hand forward. Adonis’s knee seems the most straightforward place to begin, so he reluctantly touches his fingers there.
“Rukbah,” Adonis says.
The neutral tone eases some of Souma’s tension, but only for a moment. Was that the word for ‘knee’ or ‘leg’? Without thinking, he pushes his hand up Adonis’s thigh.
“Saaq,” Adonis says, but Souma is already jumping back, quite flustered.
But was that ‘leg’ or ‘thigh?’ he thinks, a little panicked, but he is more than happy to leave Adonis’s very muscular legs aside for now.
The next logical step seems to be Adonis’s shoulder, so he claps that, perhaps a little more roughly than he should under the circumstances.
“Katef.”
Except Souma hadn’t really thought through where he should go now. A little jerkily, he drags his palm down to Adonis’s bicep.
It’s so very hard, Souma thinks, almost missing Adonis’s vocalisation of “deraa” as he resists the urge to squeeze it.
Instead, he trails his hand gently towards his elbow, wincing as he realises how much of a caress it feels like.
“Merfaq.”
He goes to his hand next, but somehow he doesn’t want to let go, smoothing the meat of his palm over Adonis’s forearm and curling his fingers delicately over his wrist.
“Me’sam,” Adonis murmurs.
Souma feels very warm, his heart pounding deeply. He truly can’t understand what it is about this situation that has him so jittery. If either of them were a woman, this of course would be a grossly inappropriate degree of contact. But he cannot think of any rule they are actually breaking.
Still, something about the way his fingers trail over the back of Adonis’s hand feels...secret.
Adonis smiles, and Souma only realises now how close their faces have come, as they both leaned in over Adonis’s lap.
“Yad,” he whispers, and the sound sends a shiver down Souma’s spine.
And then the hand moves, squeezing around Souma for a moment; he jumps.
“A-ahh, mm,” Souma says nonsensically.
But Adonis is still staring at him so he gently retrieves his fingers, brushing them over Adonis’s own.
“Asaabe.”
The long ‘ahh’ is pronounced so deeply it echoes in Souma’s head for several moments.
Very disconcerted, Souma leans back, eyes roving for other places to touch.
With a little more confidence, he places a hand on his head.
“Good boy,” he murmurs teasingly, but his voice sounds a little weird.
Adonis chuckles. “Ra’s. Or, was that my hair?”
It’s the first time Adonis has said anything in Japanese for a while, and Souma is so startled that without thinking he threads his fingers through Adonis’s long fringe.
Here, it’s so soft…
“That is sha’r.”
He doesn’t really want to move on, a little entranced. Instead he brushes the back of his hand down, tapping the shell of Adonis’s ear gently with his thumb.
“Othon.”
His hands move almost in a daze; his lips part as he traces Adonis’s jaw.
“Thaqn.”
Adonis’s eyes flutter closed. Mind fully blank, Souma follows obediently, brushing ever so lightly against his eyelid.
“’Ayn,” he breathes.
When they open, Adonis’s eyes seem impossibly beautiful, clear and vivid and golden, as full of life as a candle’s flame.
He draws a curve, painting down the length of Adonis’s nose.
Adonis almost seems to chuckle, letting out a single, short huff.
“Anf,” he whispers, and Souma can feel the puff of air on his fingertips, already imagine touching his lips...
He sits back abruptly, profoundly out of breath.
“Ah,” Adonis says.
Souma swallows thickly, struggling to explain himself. Had it been obvious that he had been-? What had he been, exactly? His hands grip at his sleeves, lost in a sensation of nakedness…
“Mm, that’s probably enough for now.” Adonis nods in agreement. “In fact, I was surprised you went for so many. But that’s just like you, Kanzaki – always ready to challenge yourself.”
For all Souma can tell, Adonis is still speaking Arabic. “I...see?”
“All right.” Adonis sits up straight. “Quiz time, then. Which part was ‘katef’?”
Souma stares at his friend for a very long time.
“...Kanzaki?”
Souma grips at his sword.
“A-Adonis-dono…! I must sincerely apologise, and I fear that there is only one way to truly repent for my failures…!”
Adonis stops him, as always. But Souma’s head swims in guilt for the rest of the afternoon.
*
Souma lingers in the entranceway.
His shoes are not so difficult to put on. But if he opens the door, Adonis could appear at any time for their morning jog. And Souma still does not feel...prepared.
What does that even mean? He wonders hopelessly. Ever since the previous day he has not been able to stop thinking about his friend, playing over and over in his head the memories of his soft hair and smooth cheek. It had felt so warm and nice – and if that had described a hug, perhaps, that would be perfectly understandable, but what kind of person finds so much enjoyment out of touching another’s nose?!
He’s just starting to wonder whether he’s somehow even worse than Hakaze when the knock comes to his door, nearly making him jump out of his skin.
“Yo, Kanzaki,”
And that, for some reason, triggers a memory.
He waits for another few seconds, licking his lips in anticipation. He’s entirely certain he will mess this up somehow, too…
But when he can wait no longer, he opens the door.
“A-ahhu-ran,” he stutters.
Adonis’s eyes widen.
“...right, obviously,” Souma mutters under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ahh, I was trying to say – umm, what you told me yesterday, the ‘hello’, but clearly I-”
“No.”
Adonis’s voice sounds a little hoarse, so Souma glances up again, worried.
But Adonis is smiling very widely.
“It was perfect, Kanzaki,” he says, and Souma knows that he means every word of it.
He looks so different like this – cheeks full, eyes closed in an almost-laugh.
Even without touching him, it seems, Souma’s heart can skip a beat.
“Ahh… that was nice,” Adonis continues eventually, gold peeking out as his expression softens. “Like being at home again. Except if you were there, I’d like it even more.”
“...th-thank you,” Souma says.
Adonis claps him on the shoulder. “Shall we get going?”
Souma nods. “We shall.”
He’s sure, now, that whether it’s to school or across the seas, he would be happy to follow Adonis anywhere.