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It’s dark out. Rosho doesn’t know what time it is—the numbers on his watch had started blurring together after the third or fourth drink—but he doesn’t really care to find out. Not when the sun is already in front of him, demanding to be seen.
Sasara’s grin is blinding in its intensity. Once, Rosho thought it was too much. Now, he can’t bring himself to look away.
The diner is nearly empty, late as it is. There’s another table of patrons somewhere behind Rosho and a single waitress that brings cream sodas as fast as Sasara finishes them.
Rosho’s missed this. The conversation that flows easily between them, Sasara’s infectious laughter. It brings him back to a simpler time. Makes him feel like the night could stretch on forever if he doesn’t blink.
“Hey, Rosho. I like you a lot, ya know?” Sasara says. One hand props up his head while the other toys with the straw of his soda. Two empty glasses sit at the edge of the table, and it’s a wonder that Sasara continues to drink like he hasn’t already consumed his weight in alcohol.
“I like you, too,” Rosho says.
Of course he likes Sasara. It’s hard not to like him. Sasara makes him laugh, but he also has one of the kindest hearts Rosho’s ever known. Rosho had liked him so much that he was willing to leave him.
“I’m serious!” Sasara’s foot nudges Rosho’s underneath the table. “I like you more than anyone else.”
“You’re my best friend, too,” Rosho says. Normally, he wouldn’t say such things aloud, but the alcohol must have locked away his inhibitions.
“That’s not what I meant,” Sasara says. “To me, you’re more than just a best friend. You’re someone I can’t replace, even if I wanted to. And… and if I’m bein’ honest, I did want to, for a little while. After you left, I ran to Tokyo cause I thought I lost you forever, and I wanted to forget.”
Rosho’s never asked about what Sasara did in those in-between years before he waltzed back into Rosho’s life. Frankly, it was none of his business. If Sasara didn’t want to tell him, that was his right.
“Obviously it didn’t work cause I came crawlin’ back to Osaka. I did have some good times in Tokyo, but I think I always knew it wouldn’t last.” Nostalgia clouds Sasara’s face, and Rosho doesn’t doubt that whatever happened in Tokyo hurt him more than he let on. “I want us to last, Rosho.”
“I’m here,” Rosho says, because what else can he say? “I’m won’t run away again.”
Sasara presses on. “I want us to be partners in every sense of the word. I want to wake up with you and rap with you and come home to you when it’s all over.”
Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Rosho forces himself to meet Sasara’s gaze. “You’re not messing with me, are you?”
“I’ve told you before, haven’t I? You’re the only one who can be my partner,” Sasara says. He’s vulnerable, stripped of all his facades. The man sitting in front of Rosho isn’t the famous comedian Sasara Nurude or the Osaka representative MC Tragic Comedy. He’s just Sasara—Rosho’s annoying partner who eats his pudding and never pays him back even though he has more than enough money.
Rosho digs out a few crumpled bills from his pocket—more than enough to cover their tab—and tosses them on the table as he practically drags Sasara out the door.
Later, when Rosho is sober and properly processing everything that Sasara said, it’ll occur to him that a darkened alleyway that smells of grease and garbage isn’t the most romantic place to have a first kiss. Sasara will surely laugh and incorporate the moment into his next show, but in the moment, the only thing on Rosho’s mind is the feeling of Sasara’s mouth against his own.
“Was this what you meant?” Rosho asks, chest heaving.
Sasara’s response is a mischievous smirk as his tongue flicks the seam of Rosho’s lips.
Making out with Sasara outside the diner they frequented as students wasn’t something Rosho thought he’d be doing when he woke up this morning, but it felt more right than anything had in a long time.
“Let’s go home,” Rosho says.
Sasara nods, and if Rosho notices the way he purposely bumps their shoulders together every other step, he just squeezes Sasara’s hand tighter.