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“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?”
Youichi looked up from his textbook. Shunpei must’ve noticed that he’d been on the same page for the past three minutes and was therefore fine with interrupting him. It was probably time for a break anyways. Youichi stretched his neck out on both sides, wincing at the burn. Definitely time for a break. Shunpei was still waiting for a reply, watching Youichi with an amused smile.
“No,” Youichi said. He could take the bait. “They’re too dangerous. My mom would never let me. You saw how she reacted when I said I started taking a bike to campus. A bike.”
“Yeah,” Shunpei laughed, “I’ve never seen you that scared before.”
Youichi groaned. “Even after I told her that taking the train station was way too expensive.”
“She just worries about you,” Shunpei said, tone suspiciously light. Youichi looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Did they want to go there right now? Shunpei looked back down at his phone. Apparently not.
“Have you ever gotten a perm for curly hair?”
“A what? Why would I ever get one?” Youichi asked, very confused by the change in topic. Shunpei’s tone was too neutral. Youichi was used to quick topic changes with their conversations, but this was suspicious. “Do you think a perm would look anything close to good on me?”
Shunpei didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he dropped his phone to get a better look at Youichi. He squinted, apparently unwilling to get off Youichi’s bed to do it. Youichi looked away, suddenly self-conscious. He’d never been able to completely escape those stray whispers of insecurity.
“It wouldn’t look terrible,” Shunpei finally decided on. Youichi huffed, turning back to look at him. There was still a sparkle of amusement in his hazel eyes. They looked warmer in the light from Youichi’s old lamp, more deep amber than the light green that sometimes shone through.
“You’re just being polite.”
“If I was being polite than I’d say it’d make you even more handsome than you already are,” Shunpei replied, throwing a wink at Youichi. Youichi gagged reflexively, but he still felt relief wash over him. Shunpei can be as perceptive as he is, but he always refuses to admit it. “You know nothing will ruin your face.”
Youichi groaned, raising a weak hand to flip Shunpei off. “Now you’re flattering me.”
“Youichi.”
“We don’t need to have this conversation again right now,” Youichi said. Shunpei shrugged in a way that meant we’ll talk about it later. Youichi could take that. Shunpei stared at him for a second longer, then looked back down at his phone.
“Next one then.”
“Next one?”
“Have you ever cut off the sleeves of your uniform?”
“No? Those things are expensive to replace,” Youichi answered. He propped his head up on his arms, rolling it to the side. Shunpei wasn’t looking at him. He looked good from this angle, Youichi noted, admiring the stretch of his legs. Still shapely even after he quit baseball.
Shunpei still ran every morning, so it wasn’t a mystery. Whatever he’s doing right now was one though. Shunpei wasn’t much of an enigma in the first place, not to Youichi at least, so this was weird. It wasn’t a bad weird. Not yet. Youichi’ll probably figure out Shunpei’s agenda if he goes along with this. He might even figure it out before Shunpei does.
Shunpei tries to go with things rather than against them. That’s the best way to deal with him too. Youichi’s learned that, but he doesn’t know if Shunpei has.
“I guess that’s fair,” Shunpei laughed, “So, have you ever been in a gang turf war?”
“Shun, what the hell? No! Why would I ever be in a gang in the first place?”
Shunpei shrugged again, infuriatingly. Youichi was this close to getting off the floor to put him in a headlock. “I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”
Youichi groaned. He massaged his temples with his left hand, right hand dropping to the floor. “How are you even coming up with these questions?”
“I’m going through this very interesting article titled ‘Super Cool Special List of Questions to Ask Your Yankii Boyfriend’,” Shunpei replied. Youichi’s jaw dropped open, speechless. Shunpei’s voice sounded completely innocent. What the fuck.
“Wh-why the hell are you reading that?” Youichi spluttered, jumping up from the floor. He narrowly avoided stepping on his textbook as he stalked over to Shunpei, who looked way too unconcerned for the very present danger he was in. “That’s definitely clickbait for weird teenagers who have a fetish for bad boys or—”
“I’m curious!” Shunpei defended, deftly dodging all of Youichi’s attempts to slap his phone out of his hands. Youichi’s fingers were almost on it, and he let out a crow of victory. Shunpei’s eyes flashed, and he flung his phone to the side. It landed with a soft thump on Youichi’s comforter, and his eyes darted over to it reflexively. Rookie mistake. Shunpei’s arms reached out lightning quick to grab his waist. Youichi fell over him with an oof, but he quickly went limp in retaliation. Shunpei wheezed from the sudden dead weight. Youichi cackled.
“Come on,” Shunpei huffed, gently maneuvering Youichi until they were in a more comfortable cuddling position. Youichi was now lying on top of Shunpei, with Shunpei’s arms across his chest. Youichi settled in with a sigh. He missed this. Shunpei always ran more on the warmer side, but it was good for this winter night. Shunpei sighed into Youichi’s hair, burying his face into the top of his head. “I’ve missed this.”
“Me too,” Youichi said, “but don’t think this is making me forget. You’re not a teenager with a fetish for bad boys, so why are you looking at that shit?”
“Your mom showed me pictures of you from middle school,” Shunpei said calmly, like he didn’t tell Youichi the greatest betrayal his mom could ever do to him. “I wanted to see if you fit any of the other stereotypes.”
“She did what?” Youichi yelled, reflexively trying to spring up to run into the living room to do… something. He’d figure it out on the way. Shunpei tightened his hold around him, so he reluctantly sunk back down. “When?”
“When you were in the shower,” Shunpei dismissed. Youichi flashbacked to him quietly telling Shunpei that he was going to take a shower, and he could stay in Youichi’s bedroom in the meantime. Mom must have been waiting for the perfect opportunity to gently insist that Shunpei follow her into the living room where her vast collection of photobooks lay waiting to ruin Youichi’s life. It was the only time Youichi would dare to leave Shunpei alone with her and grandpa. Goddammit. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you had blond hair?” Shunpei patted Youichi’s head teasingly. His hair was still fluffy from the lazy towel drying he did earlier, and Shunpei let out a soft “oh” as his fingers sunk in. Youichi melted into the touch despite his rage. He really had missed Shunpei.
“It’s embarrassing,” Youichi grumbled. Shunpei ruffled his hair a little fiercer.
“I think it looked cute,” he laughed. Youichi pressed back even more and sighed. Might as well go all the way.
“I wasn’t really much of a real yankii anyways,” he admitted, voice low. Shunpei hummed, and Youichi felt the vibrations through his entire body. He wanted to feel it again. “My friends did more of the stupid things, like smoking or trying to buy beer. They were shitty people if I look back at it now.”
“Lots of middle schoolers are shitty,” Shunpei said mildly, “don’t blame yourself for being twelve.”
“Yeah,” Youichi sighed, “but it still makes me feel stupid for not seeing all the signs. They were the ones who started shit with other people and schools. I probably wouldn’t have fought nearly as much if not for them. Maybe not at all.”
“Probably,” Shunpei agreed. Youichi laughed at the flat honesty. He wondered if Shunpei could feel it in his own chest, coming from Youichi’s back. He hoped he could. “But without those experiences, you wouldn’t be the person who you are today. I like this Youichi. And I hope he likes himself too.”
Youichi snuggled even closer to Shunpei in response. Shunpei dug his chin into Youichi’s head. They sat in silence for a few moments more.
“Do you think I would look good blond?”
Youichi craned his neck backward to look at Shunpei’s expression. His bangs were getting longer. Shunpei had said he’d been leaving them down more often than not recently. Youichi thought it made him look a little softer, and he had told Shunpei as such. Shunpei had shrugged and said he didn’t know if he should take that as a compliment. Youichi wondered if Shunpei knew how to take any compliment at all.
“I think so,” Youichi said, “Bleach sometimes doesn’t turn out well on our hair type, but you always look good. You should do it if you want to.”
Shunpei sighed in response. Youichi raised his eyebrows. “I’ve been thinking about dyeing my hair. Not just bleaching it. Maybe a really fun color.”
“Really? Why?”
“Why not?” Shunpei challenged, and Youichi felt him relax underneath him, releasing all the tension Youichi had been cautiously noting. “It’s not like anything I do will piss off the parents now,” he added, and Youichi heard the bitterness in the words.
“Shun—”
“Don’t worry, it’s not because of them. Not completely anyways. I’m thinking about a style change in general,” Shunpei continued.
“Dyeing your hair is a good way to start,” Youichi said lightly, “people look at you differently.”
“Black hair is starting to feel a little boring,” Shunpei admitted, “it’s all I see in all my classes. Also, people barely wear any colors other than black, grey, and white. It’s depressing to look at.”
“What else can you expect from business students?” Youichi tried, and Shunpei let out a sarcastic chuckle. Youichi winced. This was turning into a bad weird conversation.
“Nothing else,” Shunpei groaned, “I already feel like I’m going to fall asleep during lectures, and then I look around at everybody else and it makes everything worse.” He hugged Youichi a little tighter.
“You could still try to switch programs,” Youichi offered cautiously. They’ve had this conversation before, and Shunpei’s response was always the same. Too much work to change it, not enough reward, he’s there already, parents, what else would he do? You can do so much, Youichi’s never said. Shunpei knew that. He just refused to admit it.
Youichi’s studied why people don’t make choices and put off chances. There are a lot of different factors that all make up the waiting phase in between the now and then. Youichi made flashcards for them once. He still remembered some of them.
Lack of motivation. Wanting to stay with the certain rather than risk the uncertain. Anxiety. Not wanting to make mistakes. Fear of rejection. Fear of failure.
This wasn’t really any of those though. It was a Shunpei thing. He was probably waiting for something to happen, something to either lift him up or push him over the edge. Youichi has heard the story of the Todorokis. The first words and then the first swing that changed his world. Youichi has also heard the story of Shunpei going to the first practice of his college’s baseball team, and never any after. He had told Youichi both stories in the same tone of voice, the one he reserves for talking about baseball. Youichi could tell they were different to him, but Shunpei had tried to make them sound the same. Youichi couldn’t begin to explain why, even with two years of psychology under his belt. It was just another Shunpei thing.
Shunpei always masked everything with bravado and smiles. Youichi wondered if he was trying to hide from himself too.
“I could,” Shunpei breathed out, and Youichi perked up. This would be more progress than they’ve made in the past two years of texts, video calls, and precious visits like these. “I could.”
“If you want to, we can start looking into it right now,” Youichi said, trying but probably failing not to sound eager. Youichi was never a patient person, and he’d been waiting too long for this. This business program was ruining Shunpei even if he refused to admit it. It would never be too late to get him out. Youichi took another breath in to ask again, but Shunpei cut him off.
“I’m thinking about dropping out of college,” he whispered, voice soft but not unsteady.
Youichi freezed. Shunpei let out a shaky breath that Youichi could feel deep in his chest. This wasn’t an unexpected comment. This entire conversation, entire night maybe, had been leading up to this. Shunpei sitting uncomfortably at the Kuramochis’ dinner table instead of at his parents’ apartment. The whole thing about hair. The tone of his voice. His hands trembling slightly on top of Youichi’s chest.
“Have you talked to your parents about this?” Youichi asked cautiously. This was definitely the riskiest path to take for this conversation, but neither of them ever shied away from those.
“Nah,” Shunpei laughed, and it was more harsh than bitter this time. That didn’t make it better. Youichi gritted his teeth. “I don’t think I will. They can find out if they get something in the mail.”
“Better than they deserve,” Youichi tched, abandoning all pretenses. Shunpei laughed silently, vibrations travelling up Youichi’s back again. “How long have you been thinking about this?”
"Would you be mad if I said half a year?” Shunpei said weakly. Youichi almost hit his chin with how fast his head shot up at those words. Shunpei dodged, letting out a surprised wheeze.
“Half a year?” Youichi asked, turning around to look at Shunpei. “You’ve thought about this for six whole months and you didn’t,” he paused, staring at Shunpei’s face that was looking more and more blank by the second, “you didn’t tell me?” Shunpei flinched, and a thought suddenly came to Youichi’s mind that made him want to flinch too.
“Wait, Shun,” Youichi started, and he can feel Shunpei tense underneath him, “did you think I’d disapprove?” Shunpei didn’t reply. Youichi let out a growl and leapt out of his hold. Shunpei let him go, arms loose and unwilling to fight. Youichi turned around and bracketed Shunpei’s head in between his arms. His fingers threatened to crack the headboard with how tight he was gripping it. Youichi leaned in until their noses were almost touching. Shunpei was biting his bottom lip, eyes closed, brows furrowed. Youichi felt sick.
“Shun, did you fucking think I wouldn’t approve?” Shunpei still didn’t reply. He wasn’t making eye contact with Youichi. “Shun—”
“Maybe a little bit, okay?” Shunpei finally bit out, opening his eyes, and Youichi’s heart shattered at the wetness he saw in them. “I know you wouldn’t mind, but nobody goes to college to drop out. You helped me study for the entrance exams, and you were so,” his voice cracked, “happy when I got in. I know you’ve been telling me to switch programs, but it’s not that easy, Youichi. It’d cause too many problems. Not only for you, but for my parents and that counselor who’s always nice to me.”
Youichi reached out his hand and swept his thumb under Shunpei’s eyes, gently running through the tears. Shunpei sniffled. “It’s hard because it’s me. I’m supposed to be better than this. To be stronger than this. Wanting to quit is selfish. I should be able to suck it up and bear with it, because this is what’ll be best for my future. I’m supposed to get a stable office job and be a good son and successful and—” He can’t even finish the sentence.
Youichi had never been as full of rage as he was in this moment. He didn’t get the chance to do anything with it though, because Shunpei let out a choked sob. Youichi moved forward to touch their foreheads together before he even fully registered the sound. Shunpei was refusing to look at him, eyes squeezed shut almost childishly. Youichi wouldn’t make him open them, but he needed to tell Shunpei that he was still there. He brushed their noses together, his more pointy tip digging into Shunpei’s cheek. Shunpei drew in a shuddery breath. Youichi exhaled with him.
“Shunpei,” he whispered, trying to put everything he loves into those two syllables, “you don’t have to be anything. You’ve always been enough and you always will be. I don’t know why you think you have to prove yourself by pushing past your breaking point, but you don’t have to. You don’t fucking have to.”
“I don’t know how to do it any other way,” Shunpei said, and then he broke into tears. Youichi immediately fell forward to hug him, hands dropping from the headboard to cradle the back of his head and clutch his back. Shunpei buried his face into his chest. He never cried unless he could muffle the sounds into something, put up one last barrier between himself and the world. Between his perfect smile and his vulnerability that he keeps hidden from anything that threatens to question it. Youichi would always be that barrier if Shunpei let him be.
Shunpei was holding him like Youichi was the last thing keeping him from sinking. That was all the permission he needed.
“I hate it so much,” Shunpei sobbed as Youichi ran gentle hands through his hair, “it’s draining everything out of me. But every time I actually consider quitting I just think about everybody being disappointed in me, and I hate that even more.” Youichi’s heart felt like it was being drained too, every tear released from Shunpei’s eyes echoing in his chest.
“Shunpei, baby, nobody would be disappointed in you for dropping out,” Youichi said, making sure that each word landed in between Shunpei’s heaving breaths. “I could tell that you weren’t happy at all. Nobody wants you to be unhappy. If anybody does then they don’t matter. We want you to be happy,” he shushed, but Shunpei’s shoulders only shook more violently. He was releasing a low keening sound that Youichi wished he would never hear ever again.
“I’m never disappointed in you. Ever. The only thing that could make me sad is if you don’t see how good you are, Shun,” Youichi said desperately, cupping Shunpei’s face in his hands. He stretched his fingers behind his ears, and Shunpei whined and pushed back against them. Youichi stared into Shunpei’s red rimmed eyes. Even when they’re swollen and glassy, they’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “You’re so good and you always try so hard for the things and people you love. You’re always so selfless, baby, but you don’t have to be this time.” Shunpei gasped out something that sounded like denial.
“You can quit,” Youichi whispered, “you can do anything you want. I’ll be there with you every step of the way.” Youichi can tell that Shunpei didn’t believe him, but Youichi can’t say it any plainer than this.
Youichi lunged forward with his own brand of desperation that always makes him act and pushed their lips together. Shunpei’s lips were cracked and the kiss tasted salty, but he still pressed deeper. Shunpei didn’t give in but rather accepted all of Youichi, mouth opening and eyes closing. Youichi sunk in deeper, trying to reach every corner of Shunpei’s mouth. Shunpei crumbled under him, limbs going lax and head threatening to fall if not for Youichi’s hands holding it up. Youichi drew back to gulp in more oxygen, but he was probably taking in more carbon dioxide from Shunpei’s exhales at this point.
It didn’t matter. Right now, Shunpei needed him and that was all the oxygen Youichi needed.
“It’s okay, baby, you’re okay,” he shushed after a few minutes passed. Shunpei shook his head, still trembling minutely. Youichi kissed him again, Shunpei left gasping when he drew back. “I’m proud of you, Shunpei,” he murmured into Shunpei’s mouth. The movement of his lips carried half the message, and Youichi thought that might be where it’s really heard. “I’m proud of you for making this decision to quit, and for telling me. I know it’s scary to admit things like this, but it’s definitely the right play.” Shunpei coughed weakly. Youichi waited until he was finished to swipe away more of the tears still falling off his cheeks.
“Is it?” he asked, and Youichi’s never heard him sound so lost. “Even if I actually go through with it, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do after.”
“You’re not supposed to do anything,” Youichi argued, pressing closer to Shunpei who let himself be moved back, chest still heaving, “You can live life for yourself, Shun. You don’t need to worry about anyone’s expectations. You should do what makes you happy.”
“But still,” Shunpei protested. Youichi dropped his hands to Shunpei’s shoulders and squeezed them comfortingly. “I don’t even know what makes me happy anymore.” Youichi couldn’t stop his own whine at that statement.
“You don’t have to know,” he said, hurriedly searching for words while his brain was screaming at him to do anything to fix this. That’s right. Brains. “We’re still young. You have an entire lifetime to figure everything out. There’s so much time left for us and, hell, we’re still growing and developing. The brain won’t be complete until we’re 25. We can fuck up all we want before that, and after that too.”
Shunpei laughed weakly, pushing back against Youichi. Youichi quickly sprang away, giving him the room to straighten up and wipe his tears off. “I just can’t stop thinking that it’ll be a mistake. That I’ll regret it. I never want to regret anything.”
“I know you don’t, baby,” Youichi said, climbing back into Shunpei’s lap. Shunpei let him, still sniffling. “It’s natural to feel anxious about the future. It’s actually good to be worried about this. That’ll help you make the right decision in the end. The first step is acknowledging that you’re unhappy right now. That’s the most important step too, and you’re already there. Everything after is going to be easier, even if it doesn’t feel that way.”
“Psychology students,” Shunpei said through a fresh wave of sobs, “I hate it when you’re right.”
“We’re terrible, I know,” Youichi said, unable to hold back a quick hyaha of amusement, “but you don’t have to make this decision now,” Youichi said, pecking a quick kiss on his cheek. “Even though I think you should do it as soon as you can, you should wait until you feel comfortable. I’m always going to be here for you. I want to support you, Shun.” Shunpei’s breathing stuttered again, but his hiccups were slowing down. “I love you. Always.”
“I love you too,” Shunpei whispered back, and the last syllable is crushed in between Youichi kissing him again, lips crashing together in a mold uniquely them.
They lay there for a few more minutes that lasted an eternity. Shunpei’s tears eventually stopped, but his grip around Youichi’s back never lessened. That was fine. Youichi wouldn’t want it to.
He had turned back around so Shunpei’s chest was against his back, and Shunpei was resting his chin in his hair. Youichi was playing with his hands resting in his lap, weighing his next words. There was still something left unsaid from earlier. Fuck it. This conversation started from an impulse, a long ago memory of buying an at-home bleach kit on the walk back home when Youichi was a restless and lost kid of his own. That had led him here, as Shunpei himself said.
Youichi liked this Youichi now. Shunpei would like Shunpei too, one day. He could be patient for that.
“If you’ve,” Youichi started carefully, “been thinking about it this long, you probably have at least some idea of what you might want to do.” Shunpei hummed, and Youichi heard the thump of his head hitting the headboard when he leaned back.
“I want to travel,” Shunpei said. Youichi lifted his head, meeting Shunpei’s gaze. He was smiling, and it was a shy one, corners barely quirking up. But his eyes were glowing again. Gleaming spring green. Youichi grinned up at him.
“Where?”
“Anywhere,” Shunpei breathed out, sounding blissful in a way that Youichi’s never heard before. “Everywhere. I want to see everything the world has to offer.” His breathing was settling into something steady. Something sustainable for even longer after they fell asleep. Youichi liked it.
“I want you to experience all of it,” he grinned, “you deserve to.”
“Aren’t you afraid of me getting lost?” Shunpei asked teasingly, but his voice faltered. Youichi tched and pushed himself up again, hands bracing themselves on Shunpei’s chest when he turned around. He pressed twin kisses onto each eyelid, a quick one on top of his bangs, and two extra kisses on his nose. Shunpei let out a surprised giggle. “Youichi?” Youichi knocked their foreheads together lightly, letting himself be lost in the color of youth and new beginnings.
“Nope,” he laughed, and Shunpei’s eyes closed above a smile too large, “because you can always come back home to me.”