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It's Tuesday night, two in the morning.
Exactly.
Reita knows this, because he's been watching the digital display like a hawk for the past twenty minutes, waiting for those blinking lights to display 2:00 on the dot so that he can finally get up and give that next-door neighbor of his a piece of his goddamn mind.
He has a lot to do in the morning. He has to pick up his bike from the mechanic, take his mother out for lunch while Michiko meets with the wedding planner, work the double shift at the bakery, and, during all of that, try not to worry about what he's going to do when he inevitably shows up to the wedding, alone, without a date, and every grandmother in the room descends on him like vultures drawn to roadkill on a Texas highway.
It's a busy day.
Busy days require sleep.
Sleep that Reita isn't getting.
Because even though he'd planned his whole night out, eaten dinner at a reasonable hour, meditated before sliding under the sheets, and done so early enough so that maybe, just maybe, he'll feel rested enough to be a functioning human being in the morning-
His neighbor isn't going to let that happen.
New neighbor, to be specific. Reita still hasn't met him. He knows it's considered good manners to introduce yourself to your new neighbor as soon as they move in, but frankly, Reita's been a little busy working, eating, helping Michiko with the wedding, distracting his mother so that Michiko can make her own goddamn decisions about what flowers she wants, and - oh, how could he forget - breaking up with his boyfriend of a year after he'd come home from yet another double shift to find Kaien fucking the girl that lives two floors down. And yeah, maybe the breakup had been five months ago and maybe it's really about time that Reita moves on from it, but this whole wedding mess hasn't made that very easy.
It's not exactly a sunshine-and-rainbows walk in the park to watch your older sister, your life-long tormentor and best friend, get married to a man that treats her like a goddess, two months after getting your own heart trampled on by an adonis-looking guy with abs of steel and a mean streak.
Which is probably the worst part of this whole thing. Reita doesn't fall easy, and some part of him had always known, deep down, that Kaien wasn't for him. But Kaien was fucking hot, and they would have looked spectacular together at the wedding. Not that he had any plans of showing up his sister on her big day, but it would have been nice to not look like the failure of the family for once.
But no, Kaien couldn't have kept his dick to himself (and Reita) for just two more goddamn months, so instead of swaggering into the reception with a hot piece of ass on his arm, Reita's going to be shuffling in alone, probably looking very pathetic.
Long story short, Tuesday is going to be rough and Reita just wants to sleep. But now it is 2:00 a.m. and instead of sleeping, he is very awake and very frustrated, because as much as their landlord likes to claim their walls are soundproof they are, astoundingly, not, and his new next-door neighbor has been banging around and cursing about who knows what for hours on end.
And he shows no signs of stopping.
Reita is at his wits end.
The moment the clock turns to 2:00, he climbs out of bed. It doesn't matter that he'd meditated earlier, there is not an ounce of calm in his body; brain and muscles alike so pent up and irritated and strung out that he misses the leg hole in his sweatpants a solid three times before he's able to pull them on. He yanks on a t-shirt and ties his hair in a topknot too, and also swipes on a little deodorant and pops in a breath mint, because as angry as he is, he's still meeting the guy for the first time. He grabs his keys and his phone and slides on his slippers, and then stomps out of the door.
It's even louder in the hallway. There's a cacophony of noises coming from the other side of the door to apartment 15, and it's not without plenty of banging, crashing, and a healthy amount of swearing. Reita would be worried for the guy's health if he weren't so irritated.
He waits for a pause in the symphony to raise his hand, and then takes a deep breath (for propriety's sake) and knocks.
The apartment goes silent for a second. He hears a curse, then something crashes, another curse, and then someone is running with loud, pounding footsteps towards the door. Reita imagines a very large, angry man that could probably break his back like a glowstick (and not in the fun, sexy way), and suddenly regrets thinking this was ever a good idea.
The lock clicks.
Reita wonders if it's too late to run and hide.
Maybe he should save the introduction for an afternoon on Wednesday, not 2:00 a.m. on a Tuesday.
But before he can dart away and save his own life, the door swings open.
And oh no-
He's hot.
The man that answers the door is not at all what Reita had been expecting. He's tall, yes, and broad, yes, but instead of an angry brute of a man, Reita is greeted with the prettiest face he's ever seen looking twenty shades of sorry.
The anger drains out of him in a second, and then he promptly loses all ability to function. The carefully crafted speech he'd been reciting in his head for the past two hours is completely gone from his brain and he's sure he'd had something to say when he'd stomped over here all angry, but now all he can think is pretty lips pretty eyes pretty jawline pretty lips pretty eyes pretty jawline pretty lips-, and all of his brain power suddenly goes towards not saying all of that out loud. "Um," he says instead, dumbly.
Luckily, it doesn't matter that Reita's brain is currently on vacation, as the man doesn't seem to notice.
"Oh gosh, I am so so so sorry, have I been keeping you awake? Are you my next-door neighbor? Hi, I'm Uruha, I just moved in and I am so so sorry-" The man (Reita thinks he might have heard a name somewhere in there but he'd embarrassingly missed it) speaks hurriedly and slurred. Reita guesses from the state of his speech, the disarray of that pretty, long brunette hair, and the massive dark circles beneath his eyes, that he too is probably exhausted. It's not stopping him from apologizing profusely, however, and Reita is so starstruck that he stupidly allows the other man to go on for far longer than is necessary before he finally snaps out of it and says,
"Uh, no, it's fine."
Stupid! He curses himself when his brain comes back online. Why did he say that? Doesn't matter if the dude's hot, of course it's not fucking okay!
Because apparently, when faced with hot strangers, Reita's rational brain checks out and horny brain checks in.
The man's eyebrows scrunch together and he bites his bottom lip, and Reita tries not to scream because god, those lips look so plush and soft and kissable. "A-are you sure? It's like two in the morning and you look really tired, I'm really sorry if I kept you up, I totally lost track of time-" He says. His voice is pretty too, low and smooth like dark chocolate. Fuck.
Reita should take this opportunity to back track. What he should say is, "Actually, no, you're right! It's not okay! I'm tired!" And then give the guy a piece of his mind, and maybe the middle finger.
Instead, what comes out is, "It's really okay. I promise. Are you alright?"
Stupid!
The man's expression softens and he suddenly looks a little shy. He scratches the back of his neck, eyes flickering down to the floor and back. "Yeah, I'm really sorry. I, um, don't do great with moving or sleeping alone in strange apartments I haven't gotten used to yet, so I haven't really been sleeping and I've been trying to assemble this Ikea table in the hopes that maybe it'll make me tired enough to try and fall asleep, but it hasn't really been going great - which I'm sure you've figured out if you can hear me, again I'm really sorry-" He suddenly cuts himself off, cheeks going pink, and averts his gaze again. "I'm sorry, that was probably way more than you wanted to know. I'll be quiet now, if you need to sleep."
There are about ten thousand possible things Reita could say that would all be marginally responsible ways to respond to the situation. Instead, he opens his mouth and says, "I can help."
The man looks surprised. Reita's sure he does too. "W-what?"
"I-I can help. With the table, if you want."
The silence that ensues is deafening. The man's eyes, which are very pretty and very brown, are wide in surprise, lips parted in shock. He reels back a just barely noticeable amount, but Reita, who has been eagerly drinking in the sight of this ethereal being for the last six minutes, notices immediately and winces.
"I-I'm sorry, that was probably weird. You don't even know me and here I am offering to build Ikea furniture with you at two in the morning-" he cuts himself off when the man, still looking shy and a tad bit apologetic, suddenly gives Reita the sweetest smile he's ever seen in his life.
Reita's never been attracted to teeth before, but this dude has little pointy shark teeth and they're... cute? He wants to lick them.
He thinks he dies a little inside.
"I suppose there are worse ways to get to know someone," the man hums and that sweet smile turns a little sly, and oh no oh no oh no, is he flirting with Reita?
Part of Reita really hopes he is, and part of him really hopes he isn't, because if he is, Reita isn't sure he's going to survive to see tomorrow.
Please be into men, please be into men, please be into men-
"I warn you though," the man adds, cutting through Reita's internal gay panicking. "This table is really giving me grief. You think you're up to the challenge?" He grins (hngggggggg his nose scrunches when he grins and that is so fucking cute-), and then steps back and opens the door a little wider in what Reita thinks may be an invitation inside.
Has Reita ever put together an Ikea table?
No.
Has he ever put any sort of furniture together?
No.
Is he really any good with his hands?
Debatable.
But is he prepared to attempt anything this man asks him if it will make him smile again?
Absolutely.
Besides, how difficult can putting one measly table together actually be?
Incredibly difficult, it turns out.
Reita isn't sure when you started needing a degree in rocket science to put together furniture, but it's been about an hour and a half and neither he nor Uruha (even his name means beautiful, what the hell??) are any closer to putting this damn table together than they had been when they'd started.
The pieces are spread out all over Uruha's sitting room floor, and thank god he hasn't put down his carpet yet because there are so many small pieces, Reita's worried they'd lose them in the threads. They're having a hard enough time keeping track of them as it is, and honestly, he's about to go apeshit.
He doesn't understand how this can be so hard.
There's the wood and then there are the screws, the nuts, the bolts, and the tools. And when you put all of those together, it should make a table, right?
Not according to the instructions, which are in Japanese and yet he still can't understand what they're trying to say.
The last hour and a half hasn't been totally in vain, however.
He'd expected things to be awkward, stilted even, if not downright weird. But Uruha is friendly and very personable, and seems to be an absolute natural at conversation, even at three in the morning. Reita points out, teasing, how talkative he seems to be even in the dead of night, and even though Uruha flushes and insists that he usually isn't, Reita gets the sense that Uruha is the "4:00 a.m. conspiracy theory type" when he starts making political commentary on lizard celebrities that are secretly part of the illuminati.
Reita doesn't typically read into those kinds of things, but Uruha does make a convincing argument for Kanye West.
He's also incredibly funny, although Reita isn't entirely sure he always means to be. They try their best to be quiet for the other neighbors in the building, but Reita finds himself laughing, full bodied and unrestrained, far too many times to count.
He also teases Reita mercilessly, and beams when Reita teases him back, a fact that makes butterflies erupt in Reita's stomach.
Things don't end up being awkward at all.
He's never felt like this before.
It also doesn't help that Uruha is quite nice to look at. He's infuriatingly attractive, even in joggers and an old t-shirt, and Reita finds himself sitting with a table piece in one hand and a screwdriver in the other while he does absolutely nothing with them, instead staring at Uruha's pretty face as the man talks and jokes and flirts (maybe? hopefully?) with him. He'd even put on these big, thick-framed glasses while trying to read the instruction manual and Reita had almost drooled.
The conversation flows naturally between them, easier than it ever has with anyone before, and Reita tries not to think about the implications of that.
He learns that Uruha is 28 years old and 177 centimeters tall, and that, shockingly, he'd grown up in Kanagawa, a mere fifteen minutes away from where Reita himself had been born. He learns that Uruha had wanted to be a professional soccer player in middle school, then a professional guitarist in high school, and had been a grocer before moving. He learns, in a tender 3:42 a.m. moment of vulnerability, that he'd moved to Tokyo after breaking up with a creepy and possessive ex, after which Reita spills his own love life troubles. He also learns that Uruha has always wanted a tattoo, but that his mom doesn't like them so anytime he gets the urge, he gets a piercing instead. He has nine piercings. Reita wonders what it would feel like to bite at them, and probably (definitely) blushes. Then he shows Uruha a couple of his own tattoos (the ones he can show without stripping), and his heart does a weird floppy thing as he watches Uruha, eyes sparkling, trace over the ink with his fingers. His skin tingles wherever Uruha touches him, and there's an awkward moment of eye contact after Uruha traces the cherry blossom he has on his bicep that has them both blushing and looking away.
Reita wonders if Uruha is feeling the same things he's feeling.
He really hopes so.
At 4:00 a.m., Uruha finally gives up. He sighs loudly and leans back on his palms, face scrunched up in a pout that is criminally adorable. "Alright. I'm done. I give up. Evidently I am not smart enough for this."
"You're plenty smart," Reita teases, and hides a grin behind his fist. "You've got the glasses and everything to prove it."
Uruha rolls his eyes but he's smiling. "Hush. I seriously think you have to be a genius to figure out Ikea furniture."
Reita watches him in amusement, unable to look away as he rolls his neck and shoulders. His gaze flickers between the pretty boy in front of him and the disassembled furniture on the floor. And, because some part of him really wants to impress said pretty boy, he sits up and figures he'll give it one more shot.
"Good thing you've got a genius right here," he jokes as he cracks his knuckles. Uruha laughs and levels him with a look he'd be tempted to call fond if he knew Uruha better.
"Is that why you dropped out of high school?" he teases, eyes mischievous. Reita sputters and presses a hand to his heart.
A comment like that from Kaien would have had him grinding his teeth and biting back venom. From Uruha, it just makes him laugh. He doesn't have to wonder why that is.
"Wow! Going straight for the kill, now, aren't we?" He laughs, and then before Uruha can get worried that he'd overstepped a boundary, he shoots back, "That's exactly why I dropped out. Had to give all those other kids a fighting chance, right?" He adds a wink for emphasis, and squashes down the little spark of pride he feels when Uruha laughs a laugh that makes his eyes disappear.
Gorgeous.
When Uruha is done laughing, he sighs and gives Reita a shy smile. "You know, you really don't have to. I'm sorry I've kept you up this late, you probably have a lot to do tomorrow." His smile fades by the end of it and he averts his gaze to look at the floor, embarrassed and apologetic. Reita doesn't bother pointing out that tomorrow is actually today, and instead takes the opportunity to admire Uruha's face without getting caught. It really isn't an exaggeration to say that Uruha is the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Lovely brown eyes, a strong brow and an elegantly sloped nose, paired off with a sharp jawline and plush, full lips. He has a little freckle just to the right of his nose and Reita wants to kiss it.
When Uruha looks back up, Reita shakes his head and smiles a little. "I probably wasn't going to sleep much tonight anyways," he admits, both to Uruha and to himself. Uruha cocks his head inquisitively, so Reita continues with a small shrug. "My sister is getting married. It's a long story."
Uruha nods slowly. His expression is understanding, respectful, and there's a bit of worry and a light of curiosity in his eyes too, but he doesn't push. He smiles instead and pulls himself to his feet. "In that case, I'll get us some coffee?" He offers, and Reita is all too happy to take him up on that, nodding eagerly.
While Uruha heats up water in the kitchen, Reita takes another crack at the table. He starts by trying to reorganize all the parts and return to the beginning of the instructions, but it takes him barely two minutes to get frustrated again and throw the manual to the side.
Fuck the manual. He's a grown man. He can figure this out.
He's so engaged in his mission that he almost doesn't hear Uruha come back and pause at the doorway.
"How do you like your coffee?" He asks, crossing his arms across his chest as he leans against the doorframe of his little kitchenette in a way that screams morning-after-sex-coffee-and-being-soft-about-each-other.
Reita's brain short circuits.
"Tall," he sputters, because Uruha is tall and those legs are so fucking long and gorgeous and he still hasn't gotten over that yet. Then he flushes, cheeks warm, because oops, did he really just say that?
Uruha looks amused. "This isn't Starbucks," he teases, even though they both know that drink size is not what Reita meant.
"Just black is fine," Reita hurries to say before the situation gets worse. When Uruha nods and shuffles back into the kitchen to make them both a cup, Reita definitely goes back to his task and definitely does not watch Uruha's long legs and cute ass in those joggers.
"Do you want a snack?" Uruha calls from the kitchen.
"Sure! Why not?" It's not like he's going to get any sleep after drinking coffee. Might as well eat something while he's at it.
"What do you want?"
"What do you have?" Reita calls back, but he also knows that there's a special place in hell for guests that ask their hosts to recite every type and brand of snack they own, so he stands as he says it. His joints crack as he rises, stiff from sitting cross legged on the floor, and he winces as he shuffles bowlegged into the kitchen. Uruha is standing at the counter with two mugs of coffee as he very carefully measures out cream for his own, and Reita's brain short circuits all over again at how cute and domestic he looks in his sweats and glasses.
"Go ahead, look for yourself," he hums without looking up from his task, so Reita scoots around him and starts looking through the cupboards.
He tries not to think about how comfortable he already feels in Uruha's home, in his space. If anyone were to ask, he's chalk it up to the similarities in their apartments. In layout, they are identical, after all.
Reita is munching on pretzels when Uruha slides his coffee over and settles one hip on the counter, sipping at his own cup.
"So. Your sister's wedding," he hums, watching Reita over the rim of his mug. Reita raises one eyebrow in surprise and swallows the pretzel in his mouth. "You don't have to talk about it," he adds a moment later when Reita doesn't speak. "I just- I have two older sisters, both married and successful. So I know a thing or two about that stuff."
Reita nods and takes a sip of his coffee. It's not necessarily that he doesn't want to talk about it, it's just not something he'd normally talk about the first time he meets someone.
But he supposes as far as first meetings go, nothing here has been normal. He takes another sip of coffee and sighs.
"I'm not jealous of her or anything. I'm really not. And I love her fiancé, he's great, treats her like his whole world. There's really no one else I'd be willing to hand her over to," he starts. Uruha smiles and nods, sipping at his coffee. Reita almost stumbles over his next words, a little caught up in the way Uruha's lips look wrapped around the rim of his mug, the way his adam's apple bobs, the way he's 177 centimeters of tall and broad and yet still manages to make drinking coffee look soft and poetic, like he's sipping warm spiced cider after coming inside from a snowstorm.
Honestly, how does he do it?
"I just..." Reita bites his lip and tries to refocus his thoughts. "My family accepted me, when I came out. They understand that this is who I am, and that I'm happy with it. They love me, and that didn't change. But my mom... I think she loves me a little too much, you know?" He laughs, a little bitterly. "She's somehow gotten it in her head that by being gay, I'm setting myself up for a life of loneliness, I guess. Even though I was with Kaien for a whole year, she never thought he was serious enough. I mean, she was right, but it still stung. She knows deep down that I'm not interested in women, but every time she has brunch with her friends, she still tries to set me up with all of their daughters, like maybe one of them will be enough to turn me... normal," he spills.
Uruha is quiet and respectful while he speaks. He nods every so often, and his expression is open, eyes sad and brows just a little furrowed. It's an odd feeling to be on the receiving end of a look like that, and from someone else it might make him feel too exposed, uncomfortable. But from Uruha, he just feels understood. He keeps talking.
"I think that's why she's taking Michiko's wedding so seriously. She thinks it's the only wedding this family is going to have. And I guess I thought that if I showed up with beautiful, successful, supposedly faithful Kaien, she might change her mind." His mouth feels dry so he takes another sip of coffee and sighs. "Instead, he just proved her point. So now I've either got to find a date in less than two months, or I'm going to have to show up alone."
He looks down at his coffee and away from that understanding gaze. He needs a moment to regain his bearings.
The room is quiet for a moment, along with the world outside. Even Tokyo has its quiet hours, and 4:00 a.m. is one of them, right before the 5:00 a.m. rush. Sometimes the silence is deafening, but right now it just feels peaceful.
Uruha sighs and seems to hesitate for a moment before reaching out and placing a gentle hand on Reita's forearm.
"I'm sorry," he says softly. "It hurts when they think they're helping you, and you know they love you, but they still can't accept you for who you are." He squeezes Reita's wrist gently and Reita wonders how such a simple touch like that can make his heart feel like it's breaking.
"When I came out to my grandfather, I thought he was going to cuss me out," Uruha hums softly. Reita keeps his gaze on Uruha's hand but turns his own hand over to brush their fingers together, indicate that he's listening. It's an incredibly intimate gesture, far too intimate for two people that met mere hours ago, but with the topic of conversation, it just feels right.
Uruha's fingers curl a bit, brushing his back, and he guesses, hopes, that Uruha feels the same way.
"He was a soldier, and had a nasty mouth," Uruha continues. "I thought for sure he'd yell at me. But he didn't. Instead he hugged me and told me not to worry, that we'd figure out a way to fix me, together. I know he loved me. He'd always brag about me to his friends, and call me all the time to remind me that he cared. But he spent every day until his death insisting that some day I'd wake up "fixed" and it's something I'll never be able to forgive him for."
When Reita looks up, Uruha's chewing on the inside of his cheek. It gives him a fake dimple and Reita barely restrains himself from reaching out and poking it, only because this is a very serious moment that requires maximum seriousness and minimal cheek-poking. He's not sure what to say in response to Uruha's confession, but their hands are still brushing and when Uruha meets his gaze and gives him a very small but very soft smile, he knows that no words need to be said.
"Thank you," he murmurs instead, and when that makes Uruha beam, Reita feels himself relax and smile as well.
"Mm," Uruha hums and pulls his hand away to draw circles in the counter with his index finger. His expression flickers and he looks almost nervous, eyes darting down and away from Reita's gaze, then back again, but he's still smiling. It's then that Reita notices with a fluttering heart just how close they are. All it would take is a moment for him to lean in just a few inches, and kiss him. But he doesn't. Not yet. "For the record," Uruha says a moment later. "I don't think it'll be a problem finding a date for the wedding."
Reita raises one eyebrow, unable to keep from smirking a little. "Really? I don't know... Do you know anyone that would want to go with me?" He asks, cocking his head. He hopes Uruha is flirting with him, again.
Uruha bites his lip around a shy smile and cocks his head in the same direction. His gaze flickers down to Reita's lips and then back up, and he sways a little bit, eyes shy but playful. "I can think of a few," he murmurs, and Reita huffs a laugh, unbearably enamored by this man, who he now knows is definitely flirting with him.
He's more than happy to flirt back. And maybe get a little revenge for all of Uruha's teasing.
He licks his lips and leans forward a little bit more. His heart is racing, and he hopes he's reading this right, hopes he's read Uruha right as Uruha's eyes widen a little bit. He doesn't move away, though, so Reita moves closer. Uruha's eyelashes flutter, he audibly holds his breath, and his eyes flicker down to Reita's lips again, so Reita goes in for the kill.
Just as their lips are about to meet and Reita can feel Uruha's breath against his own, he grins and slides past Uruha's lips to brush his own against Uruha's ear. "Send them my way, yeah?" he whispers, and grins wider as Uruha's body, not quite touching his own but close enough to feel, tenses and shivers.
He's tempted to pull the ultimate suave bad-boy move and brush by Uruha, sweep out of the room and leave Uruha shocked and flustered and wanting more, but he also doesn't want Uruha to feel like he's brushing him off. So instead he pulls back to look at Uruha's shocked face, silently praying that he hadn't just fucked everything up, and gives Uruha a little shit-eating smirk to emphasize that he's just teasing.
It takes Uruha a moment but he huffs out a laugh, expression bewildered and flustered and amused all at once. "You're terrible!" He laughs, and Reita hopes his relief isn't showing all over his face.
"You like it," He hums, smug and maybe just a little too hopeful. Uruha breaks their gaze to look at the ceiling, still laughing, and says,
"Yeah, damnit."
"I can't do it," Reita finally admits at 5:00 a.m. as he leans, exhausted, against the wall opposite the couch. Uruha's just going to have to accept that he will never have a table in his sitting room. What a shame. He's just going to have to hang out more in Reita's apartment, since Reita does have a table in his sitting room.
What an absolute shame.
Uruha just smiles from where he's sitting on the couch, one elbow on the couch arm with his cheek squished into his palm. He looks beautiful, all soft and sleepy and sweet curled up on the couch while the rising sun bathes him in golden light through the window.
Reita's heart stutters.
Is it possible to fall in love in three hours?
"Oh no," Uruha sighs, sounding not at all upset. "And here I was, thinking you'd be my knight in shining armor."
He's teasing Reita again, and Reita revels in it. He plays along, tipping his head to the side and sighing dramatically.
"I'm so sorry that I've let you down, your highness," he sighs, and then grins at Uruha from across the room. He's still tingling from his little stunt earlier, still riding the high of hearing Uruha say that he liked him, even after he'd been a little shit. "Whatever can I do to repay you?"
Uruha grins back, eyes sparkling like he's been waiting for this all night. "Hmmmm..." he taps on his chin and pretends to think, eyes darting to look up at the ceiling. "You could..." His gaze slides back down to Reita's. "Let me take you out for dinner?"
Reita's heart flip-flops and he grins impossibly wider. "Gladly."
"Tonight?"
Reita's heart totally doesn't race at the idea that Uruha can't wait more than a day to see him again. He doesn't want to wait either, but he must be an adult.
"I have work."
"Tomorrow?"
"Gotta help Michiko with wedding stuff."
Uruha pouts and Reita thinks it's terribly cute and terribly unfair. "How about Friday?" he proposes and feels his stomach flip again at the way Uruha's face lights up.
"Perfect."
Then they're both quiet for a moment. Reita surveys the mess of table parts on the floor and then looks back up at Uruha. "Do you want me to clean this up?" he asks. "You look ready to fall asleep."
He really does. He's no longer resting his cheek on his hand, instead laying his head on the couch arm as he sinks into the cushions and blinks sleepily. It's so terribly soft and cute and Reita wonders again how he got lucky enough to meet this man.
"Hmmmmmm." Uruha really does think about it this time, and then shakes his head lethargically. "Nah, I'll clean it up later, after I nap," he says, and then covers his face as he yawns.
Reita's cheeks hurt from smiling.
He stands and stretches a bit. "I should go then, let you sleep."
Uruha makes a face like he doesn't want Reita to go, and Reita's heart melts, but he pushes himself up regardless. "I'll walk you out."
Reita laughs. "The door is right there, don't get up. You look comfortable," he insists but Uruha shakes his head and waves him off as he stands.
"I'd be a terrible host if I didn't see you off. It would make an awful first impression!"
Reita snickers. "Hmm, you've already done that, keeping me up till five a.m.," he teases, which earns him another adorable pout and a light slap to the shoulder. Uruha opens the door for him as he puts on his slippers, and then walks him a whole two steps to his own door.
What a gentleman.
There's a businessman that lives a few doors down. Uruha and Reita are caught up in their own world as he steps out, briefcase in hand, and he gives them a once-over, looks mildly judgmental, and then takes off for work. Reita tries not to laugh at his face and at the scene they must make, both dressed in sweats and looking absolutely exhausted but smiley and giggly nonetheless, like two schoolboys that had snuck out to stargaze and were coming home just in time to not get caught.
He feels giddy.
"Goodnight, I guess," he teases. He's already unlocked and opened his own door but he hasn't moved and Uruha hasn't either, neither of them wanting to be responsible for ending the moment.
Uruha flushes and smiles sleepily. "Hmm, will you be able to nap too?" he asks. Reita shakes his head, then shrugs and smiles when Uruha has the gall to look guilty.
"I'll be fine. I'll drink some more coffee, maybe get a five-hour energy drink or something. You're not planning on making any more tables tonight, are you?"
Uruha chuckles and shakes his head. "No, definitely not. I'll be quiet tonight, so you can sleep. Promise."
"Thank you," Reita hums and gives him another teasing wink. "Nap well, then," he says softly. He really doesn't want to go, but he knows he has to so he summons up all the adult responsibility he can manage and moves to slip inside his own apartment.
Just before he can step over the threshold, however, Uruha calls out to him.
"Reita, wait."
"Hmm?" He's more than happy to turn back, catch another glance at the pretty man that's managed to steal his heart in under 12 hours.
Uruha bites his lip and squares his shoulders, which looks very very cute in conjunction with how sleepy and soft he looks. "You know, you have nothing to prove to your mom. It's not your job to make her feel better about who you are," he says firmly. It catches Reita off guard, but it also speaks to a part of him buried deep down.
He supposes he's always known that, but hearing someone else say it is really nice.
He smiles at Uruha and nods. He doesn't think anymore needs to be said. Uruha's shoulders relax a bit and he smiles, sinking back into his sleepy fugue state.
"Good," he hums, then yawns again. "Goodnight, Reita."
Reita chuckles and watches him shuffle back inside apartment 15. "Goodnight, Uruha."
It takes a whooping two cups of coffee, three espressos, and a full breakfast to get him going. He's pretty sure his body is two milligrams of sugar away from a heart attack all morning, and then he stumbles and almost falls asleep twice during his double shift, but he barrels through the day with a smile on his face regardless.
His heart feels all gooey in his chest.
When he gets home that night, he googles Ikea and leaves a five-star rating.
It's the least he can do.