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“If I had known you’d exploit my lip-reading like this, I never would’ve shown you at that stupid Christmas party.”
A lovely evening of sake, three-star kuroge wagyu beef, and the decadent scents of a gourmet skillet had been the ultimate dream-date for Mitsuba for two weeks now. She waved pamphlet after pamphlet before her girlfriend’s face, only to get the celebrated beeps of a microwave in response. When the night came that Shinoa finally consented, Mitsuba slipped on her favorite black dress, sprayed her favorite scent of clover, and pinned up her hair, only to find Shinoa curled up in bed with their cat.
‘I never said I was going!’ she said with false incredulity.
So there Mitsuba was, sitting across a skittish Yuuichirou donned in tacky disguise glasses and a wig.
“Blame Shinoa! She rented you out to me!” He snapped, smothering the face of an innocent beef tongue on the skillet. “And you owed me after that stovetop incident!”
“Yeah, about that. Remind me to tell her I’m a human being.”
“Has he sat down yet? What’s this guy look like?”
Mitsuba raised her eyes from her sake.
“Like you, but waaaaay hotter. Mikaela said so himself a minute ago.”
“Huh!?”
Twisting himself to face the counter, the pain in the pit of his stomach deflated by half when he didn’t find his alleged doppelgänger. His sensual eyes may have shared his hazel, his luxurious hair equally dark, but their other features diverged in entirety.
He threw Mitsuba a glare, receiving a mere sip of her drink and a “made you look.”
“Don’t waste my peeks! He’ll find out if we stare too much!”
Mitsuba poked the charred edges of his beef tongue. “Here’s a thought. Make it look like we’re dating instead of going full stalker on me.”
Yuuichirou gave her hand a flimsy squeeze and stuffed his mouth with a steaming wad of meat.
“There! Better?”
“Wow. My prince,” She replied, wiping his spittle off the table.
“Now, what do you think?”
“About the wig? Terrible. You could have at least bought a lace front.”
“Focus! About him!”
The stranger rubbed Mikaela’s back, who edged closer to him with a vigorous nod. From the meager 30% she grasped of their conversation, they discussed the dreadfulness of their shared professor.
“… That I could be enjoying an evening out with my actual girlfriend if someone stayed home and admitted he’s jealous.”
She rolled her eyes at how easily the insinuation crimsoned his face.
“Am not! This is Mika we’re talking about! My best friend in the whole world! He deserves the best! Someone who realizes how amazing he is and treats him that way!”
“Yeah!” Mitsuba replied, too eager to be sincere. “And you know what else he should do? Be his roommate, wear a red hoodie, have a birthday on October 16th—”
“Shut up.”
Another beef tongue hissed over the coals, and he watched its juices simmer with a frown.
“… What if he’s mean to him?”
She caught Mikaela stifling his laugh as his date fingered circles in his palm.
“Doubt it.”
“What if he makes fun of him for that little snort he does when he thinks something is only kinda funny?”
She grabbed his pair of tongs and took to minding his beef.
“Just happened.”
“And!?”
“Cutest thing he’s ever seen.”
“Drat!”
Mitsuba’s wry smirk shrank him into his chair.
“… What?” He said meekly.
“Face it, Yuu. Someone encroaching on Mika-Yuu movie night, while annoying, does not an evil villain make.”
“I know that!”
His eyes darted to the inviting radiance of Mikaela’s smile, and his appetite soured.
“… Still, I should stay! What if he ends up having a bad time and he needs me!?”
“Then he would’ve been fine since the 1990s. Doesn’t he have your cell phone number?”
“What if he calls me to tell me to come here because he’s having a bad time!?”
The gentleman slipped from his seat, mouthed ‘I’ll miss you,’ and walked backward out of view as if to drink in all he could of his image.
“See!?” Yuuichirou cried, summoning all his strength not to explode from his seat. “He abandoned Mika!”
“Or went to the restroom?”
“How do you know!?”
His phone vibrated across the table, and the caller ID enlivened him with an energy he almost found frightening.
“There it is!” He whisper-cried, “The call!”
“Is that a heart next to his name?”
“Not important!”
He dove beneath the table.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Yuu-chan.”
His hand muffled the residual sounds of their shared environment.
“Mika! How are you? How’s the date going?”
“It’s—”
“Awesome! Do you need something? Advice? Maybe an excuse home? Is anything wrong?”
Hopefully.
But Mikaela crushed his hopes with a drawn-out, “No…?”
“I thought I’d bring something back for you. Did you still want to try black beef rib loin?”
“He spent…” Reel it in. “More than anything!”
“How long should I cook it?”
“Sides crispy! Green onion on top! You’re the best!”
The sore neck from cramping himself between the booth and table was a fair price for knowing Mikaela didn’t forget about him.
His spirits soared.
“On it. Be home soon.”
Soared enough to forget his situation hadn’t moved an inch.
“… Have fun.”
His groan reverberated beneath the table, and Mitsuba gave him a swift kick in the arm.
“Ouch! What the hell?”
“You make no sense, Amane— ow! Quit it! ” Her heel scraped off his pinching fingers, and she finished his serving for revenge. “If you wanted to date him so badly, why didn’t you just ask him out?”
“Be~cause! I’ve been with him forever! What if…”
Yuuichiro drew his knees to his chest.
“He feels like he settled? And someone great comes along and then he feels like he missed out because he’s stuck with me? And the whole thing tanks? And then we break up, and then we go from being friends to being exes who aren’t even friends, and then he moves out because he can’t stand the sight of me—What?”
Mitsuba lowered her face beneath the table.
“And being friends with benefits would’ve solved this… how?”
Yuuichirou blinked.
“I thought if we were, maybe I could be affectionate enough for him to realize I liked him!”
Mitsuba raised her eyebrow.
“… Made sense when I thought of it.”
With a sigh, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and joined his ‘date’ back on the surface.
“Anyway, is he back yet—”
“Yuu, wait! Don’t look—”
They had kissed.
Mikaela and his classmate had kissed.
It didn’t matter if he hadn’t seen the actual act. They departed their lips from less than a centimeter’s distance, and Mikaela rubbed his collar between his fingers like he always did when bashful. His date took his chin and angled him for another.
Yuuichirou stifled a whimper. The heel tapping his foot may have returned his gaze to the skillet, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.
“See? They’re getting along great,” Mitsuba said, irritation absent from her voice. “Mission accomplished. Go home.”
“Yeah…” He sighed.
“Look, I’ll pay the check. Just do whatever you need to do to heal—”
“I don’t need to.”
The smile plastered across his mouth left her unconvinced, so he followed up with, “I appreciate your concern, but I wasn’t lying. I just wanted to make sure he’s safe.”
He throws another glance over his shoulder. The sight tied his throat into knots, but he couldn’t look away too soon.
One second. Two seconds. Three. That’s long enough.
“Of course I’m happy for him! How pathetic do you think I am?”
✲
“I’m so pathetic!” Yuuichirou groaned into a face-full of decorative sofa pillow, his resting place since trailing home.
Despite this, Shiho’s chiding came clearly through the phone.
“You are.”
“It’s not supposed to feel this bad!” He unpackaged another sweet roll and stuffed it into his mouth. “I’ve always been happy for Mika! When he got better grades than me—”
“That was inevitable.”
“When he beat me all the time in our high school’s kendo club—“
“You always denied that until now.”
“… Point is, he really liked this guy!” He whined between chews. “Saying how I feel will only complicate things now! That’s why—”
“You’re gonna sulk all night?”
“… Not all night.”
The sound of jingling keys and tumbler shifting jolted him upright, and he hung up on Shiho with a frantic “See you tomorrow!”
Fix the pillow. Turn on the television, turn to any channel—any channel will do! Except for that one. He never watches that. How did he look when he’d been vegging out for a while? Mikaela had made fun of him once or twice for the way he slumped. Beneath the cushion lay a few of his snacks, and he scooted to his designated spot for Mika-Yuu movie night.
“I’m home.”
“Welcome back! Is that for me!?” Yuuichirou said, eyeing Mikaela’s carry-on box.
“As promised.” An emotion he couldn’t place slanted Mikaela’s answer. “Sorry I missed our movie night. Watch anything good without me?”
“Nothing new. Tokyo Detective Duo’s on, though.”
“Really? What happened this time?”
“Not sure. Wasn’t paying much attention.”
“Oh…”
The atmosphere thickened as though the same lurking frustration festered within Mikaela. But how could that be? Could he have seen him at Yakiniku? Did Mitsuba run into him while paying the check (which he’d pay back ten-fold)? Was he about to yell at him?
To end this overbearing silence, and perhaps get his verbal lashing over with, Yuuichirou asked: “How was your date?”
And with equal hesitance, Mikaela answered.
“Amazing… better than I could’ve imagined.”
Mitsuba’s words raced through Yuuichirou’s mind, and he stifled the ache in his chest with a stronger desire: the happiness of his childhood friend.
“… That’s perfect! No one deserves that more than—”
The sudden warmth of Mikaela’s hand evaporated the words from his throat and left him breathless.
“I’m sorry. May I be selfish for a second?”
“Always!”
His awkward affirmation, albeit startling, brightened Mikaela’s face.
“Oh man,” He scoffed, smile never leaving his lips. “What am I about to do?”
“Mika?”
His eyes escaped to a random corner of the coffee table, as though he actively avoided Yuuichirou’s.
“Ogawa’s… a bit of an airhead. But it’s charming, in a sense. He had this endearing sincerity about everything, and he listened so fondly to whatever I said.”
Ogawa…
He could have spent the rest of his life not knowing his name.
The memory of he and Ogawa’s kiss pushed through Yuuichirou’s heart like a blade, and to spite this sensation, he squeezed Mikaela’s hand.
His dear friend had a right to happiness, no matter the provider.
“Really, Mika. That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to meet him—”
“No it’s not!”
His next words, however, retracted the blade so quickly the rush of endorphins made him lightheaded.
“I should’ve been happy he asked to be my boyfriend. But the entire drive home, I still wanted to come back to you. The thought I couldn’t have that anymore…”
He paused to collect himself, but he couldn’t still the tremble in his frame.
“Yuu-chan…?” He swallowed. “Would you hate me if I wanted to be more than friends?”
There was no time to think, to craft a proper answer that aligned with the mood.
“I need to admit something!”
He refused to let Mikaela live one second longer without knowing.
“What is it…?”
Yuuichirou seized his upper arms and cried, “I never wanted to be friends with benefits! I like you! I’ve always liked you! I think I even love you! I just didn’t wanna—”
His flustered agitation transferred to Mikaela like a virus, and he finished his thoughts with divined accuracy.
“—Hold me back!?”
“Yeah! We-We’ve known each other forever!”
“—Since we were eight!”
“But if someone came around who you liked—”
“—I did! And I still wanted you!”
“—Seeing you dating someone sucked! It drove me crazy!”
“—I never wanted to! Do you know how awful I’d feel if you dated someone else!? But I didn’t bring anyone home! And I couldn’t let you suspect anything!”
“—Are you kidding!? I dreaded this ever since I came up with it!”
“… Wait.”
“… What?”
For minutes, the two sat without a word.
But they erupted with laughter once they met each other’s gaze.
“Some plan that was!” Yuuichirou said, throwing an arm over his shoulder.
“That I agreed to!” He wiped a stray tear from his eye. “Is your stupidity rubbing off or something?”
“Hey! I’m not—”
A kiss renewed and prolonged swallowed his remaining breath. His back hit the armrest and knocked his snack wrappers off the cushion. He held the part of Mikaela’s back where his date’s hand once lay, rousing him with secret delight.
Mikaela cleared his throat when they parted for air.
“So…” He began, hand up Yuuichirou’s shirt. “What do we do now?”
“Nothing, I guess,” was Yuuichirou’s reply, thigh nestled between Mikaela’s legs.
“Huh?”
“Being together won’t change anything if you think about it. We already live together, eat each other’s cooking, sleep in the same bed, have sex. We’ll just be… more than friends.”
With that, everything pieced together.
His answer espoused the familiarity, safety, and nostalgia of a promise only he could make, and Mikaela graced his forehead with a kiss.
“I’d like that.”