Work Text:
“Hey, babe.”
Miyuki grumbled as an arm wrapped around his waist. There was only one person who greeted him like that. Only one person who would get a little too drunk at a party and think it was a good idea to crash at Miyuki’s dorm. Only one person who would slip under the covers and cuddle like...like...
“You know, I only gave you a key so that you could water Shirasu’s plants,” said Miyuki. Or at least he tried to. He was pretty sure he wasn’t coherent at the moment. Not that it mattered to Chris who simply snuggled up closer and Miyuki tried to flinch away as his cold nose touched the back of his neck. He didn’t make it very far. Not with Chris’ arm tightening his hold on him. “Don’t you have your own apartment to go home to?”
“It’s too far away,” mumbled Chris. He already sounded half asleep and Miyuki kind of hated him because he was more than half awake now. “You’re warm.”
“And you’re fucking cold.”
Chris hummed. “Feel my fingers.”
And with no other warning, Chris slipped his hand under Miyuki’s shirt--
“What the fuck!” yelped Miyuki as he flailed. His arms and legs got tangled in the sheet as he tried to get away from the icicles that were Chris’ fingers.
Chris just laughed and stole Miyuki’s pillow.
“I did nothing to deserve this betrayal,” whispered Miyuki fiercely because he did not want a repeat of the Waking Up Shirasu in the Middle of the Night Debacle of last year.
Chris held out his hand. Flicking his wrist in a lazy beckoning gesture that was more charming than Miyuki wanted to admit. “Come back to bed.”
“I am in bed.”
Chris smiled. The expression pressed against the pillow. “You know what I mean, babe.”
It was pathetic that that was all it took. Miyuki laid back down. Facing Chris this time. He looked soft like this. In the faint light from the streetlamp outside. His hair falling across his forehead. Relaxed in a way that he rarely was in the daylight.
Miyuki reached up so he could run his fingers through Chris’ hair. “I’m surprised no one has realized what a lightweight you are.”
“It’s my superpower,” mumbled Chris as his eyes closed slowly. “Keeping my shit together while drunk.”
Miyuki would have laughed if he didn’t know it was true. Chris got tipsy after two glasses of wine and exponentially worse after that. And yet he could still hold a perfectly articulate, thought-provoking conversation, sometimes switching between two languages, as he went on and on about metaphorical literature bullshit that Miyuki couldn’t understand sober.
“That’s a lame superpower,” muttered Miyuki into the space between them.
“Shhhh,” said Chris as he placed a finger on Miyuki’s lips in order to hush him. “Superpowers are a secret.”
Chris’ finger was no longer cold. And that was the least important detail of what was happening right now. Miyuki shook his head. Chris' finger followed the movement for a moment before falling away.
Miyuki buried himself back under the covers. Haphazardly throwing them over Chris as well. “You’re a dork.”
Chris huffed a laugh. “That’s a secret too.”
“You’re just full of secrets.”
Miyuki’s reply was too honest. It wasn’t his usual honesty. The brutal truths that he delivered in the daylight. This was a deeper, personal truth. One that was meant to be whispered late at night.
And Miyuki was pretty sure that Chris had already fallen asleep. His breathing was an even and steady rhythm in the dark. And maybe Miyuki imagined it or maybe he dreamed it, but right before he drifted off himself, he could have sworn he heard Chris say,
“So are you…”
---
Miyuki met Chris in his fourth year of college.
And only because Miyuki was a dumbass who hadn’t realized he needed one more humanities class to fulfill his general education requirements. So he had been stuck, a Senior surrounded by overeager Freshmen, in the only class that fit in his already busy schedule--a Literature class that was held way too early in the morning.
Miyuki would slink into the lecture hall half asleep. A beanie or ball cap pulled low as he took a seat in the very back row. Most of the time he would work on assignments for his other classes. More comfortable with the clean, straightforwardness of numbers and calculations and formulas than with...whatever the hell this class was about.
In the past, Miyuki had always managed to bullshit his way through his literature classes. He would read a summary of the book online, get the gist of it and spew out some nonsense for however long the word count was supposed to be. It had always worked in the past and he figured this class would be the same.
He hadn’t factored in the TA.
Takigawa Chris Yuu.
He looked and dressed as if he was playing a TA in a romance drama. Tall and good looking. Confident and competent. He owned a whole wardrobe full of cardigans and cable-knit sweaters and freshly pressed dress shirts that he tucked into well-fitting jeans or chinos.
The whole class had a crush on him. It was annoying really.
And maybe that was why, after receiving a barely passing grade on his latest essay, Miyuki walked up to him after class and declared, “This whole book is bullshit. You know that right?”
Miyuki had expected a lot of different reactions from Chris. Anger maybe? Or at least annoyance. What he hadn’t expected was for the TA to laugh as he slung his messenger bag over his shoulder.
“Care to tell me about it over coffee?”
And before he realized it, Miyuki found himself sitting in the nearest cafe on campus.
And before he realized it, Chris was ever so politely, ever so gently refuting all his arguments about the bullshit book--before mercilessly stabbing through them with his own razor-sharp opinions. Miyuki had never felt so off-balanced in a conversation before. And all the while Chris calmly sipped his iced mocha frappuccino as if he wasn’t completely blowing Miyuki’s mind.
(Miyuki didn’t know it back then, but he would later learn that this was just how Chris conversed with everyone.
He would also later learn that the baristas at the coffee shop always gave Chris extra whip cream for free because the world was a cruel, cruel place for anyone who wasn’t Takigawa Chris Yuu.)
And before Miyuki realized it, they had been talking at the coffee shop for over an hour.
And Miyuki’s grade didn’t improve after their conversation, but he found he hated the class a little less.
---
Chris’ other superpower was never being hungover.
No. It somehow went beyond that. It was inhuman the way Chris looked so good after a night of drinking. Soaking up the early morning light like all of Shirasu’s plants as he sat in the chair closest to the window. Wearing what surely was the same clothes he had been wearing last night. His hand curled around a well-worn book. Beat up from all the times Miyuki had tossed it haphazardly into his backpack.
“Morning,” greeted Chris with a smile. “Want to go get some coffee?”
Miyuki blinked. His usually quick brain felt extra slow from sleep. It couldn’t process the vision that was Takigawa Chris Yuu and the question he had asked at the same time. Miyuki closed his eyes and shoved up his glasses so he could rub them.
“I have coffee here, you know.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have whip cream.”
“Whip cream is gross. You’re gross.”
Chris turned the page. “Is that a ‘no’?”
Miyuki sighed. Deeply. “Let me get dressed.”
---
Miyuki met Kuramochi his first year in college because some strange algorithm had determined that an art major and a structural engineering major should be roommates.
And by all means, Miyuki and Kuramochi shouldn’t have gotten along. And they didn’t really at first. And Miyuki was willing to admit that that was mostly his fault. It wasn’t like he had gone out of his way to actually befriend his roommate, but over the years they had settled into a routine and then a friendship that was based mostly on blunt honesty.
And most of the time it worked in their favor. Most of the time Miyuki appreciated not having to guess where he stood with Kuramochi. If he was annoyed that Miyuki’s laundry pile was encroaching on his half of the room he told him. If he needed the room to host a video game tournament he told him in advance. If Miyuki was sitting on his bed frowning at the required reading for his literature class at two o’clock in the morning then Kuramochi was within his rights to groggily roll over and say,
“What the hell?”
---
Miyuki passed the Literature class. Barely.
He had mixed feelings about the class ending. He wasn’t going to miss reading and analyzing and trying desperately to come up with something that made sense for his essays and that might, maybe, possibly impress Chris a little bit--
It was why Miyuki also had mixed feelings when, on the last day of class, Chris handed him a new book.
Miyuki blinked at it before he held it up incredulously. “What is this?”
Chris smiled. Looking way too pleased with himself as he replied, “It’s another bullshit book.”
“What the fuck,” cackled Miyuki. “You’re giving me a reading assignment?”
“Yeah. Oh...and…” Chris trailed off as he rummaged around in his bag for a pen. He clicked it and took the book back. Opening it to the first page so he could scribble on it--and wasn’t that sacrilegious to Lit majors? Chris handed the book back and added, “I’m expecting to hear your thoughts about the first three chapters by next week.”
Miyuki shook his head, but he was still smiling because what the hell was going on?
“You’re not my TA anymore so I feel like I can comfortably say, ‘Fuck you, Takigawa’.”
Chris laughed in return. “I’ll see you around, Miyuki.”
“I’m not reading this book,” called Miyuki to his retreating back. Chris simply threw a short wave over his shoulder without turning around.
And Miyuki was still shaking his head as he looked at the book in his hand. Literature was confusing and Takigawa Chris Yuu was fucking confusing.
And--
Chris had written his phone number on the inside of the book.
---
Miyuki read the book.
---
After over a year of stopping by the same cafe together, the baristas knew Miyuki’s order along with Chris’--mocha frappuccino extra whipped cream and an iced americano. The mocha frappuccino was always delivered with a bright smile. The iced americano with a less bright, more begrudging one.
Miyuki accepted his drink with a smirk and a cheerful, “Thanks.”
Chris pushed open the door for them and squinted at the sudden sunlight. “God, I’m never drinking again.”
“You say that now, but next week you’re going to be invited to some crazy underground poetry slam or some shit.”
Chris snorted, almost choking on his drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and Miyuki had given up trying to figure out how Chris managed to do mundane things so gracefully.
“The sad thing is...you’re not far off the mark.”
“You Lit majors,” said Miyuki with a shake of his head before he took a sip of his own coffee. “Please don’t invite me.”
To which Chris grinned around his straw. Slow and secretive. Like he knew that Miyuki really would go with him if he asked.
“Now where would be the fun in that?”
---
“You want me to go to what?”
Chris looked up from the paper he was grading. “My department always throws an end of the year mixer and I’m allowed to bring a guest.”
They were sitting in the office Chris had been given access to when he became a TA. It was a small, depressingly plain room with no windows. There was barely enough room for a desk and three chairs--one for Chris, the one that Miyuki commandeered for himself, and one for the steady stream of students who dropped by.
(Most of them only did so in an attempt to flirt or suck up to Chris. Miyuki found their attempts hilarious to watch.)
“Why would I want to go to an end of the year mixer for the Literature department?” Miyuki popped open the cover of his coffee in order to drink the last watered-down dregs of his coffee. “That sounds awful.”
“Oh, it is awful,” said Chris cheerily. “But it’ll be less awful if you’re there.”
And, really, how was Miyuki supposed to say ‘no’ after that?
---
The year-end party was the first time Miyuki really got to see Chris. That was all Miyuki could think about as the night dragged on.
Miyuki was decidedly out of place in his jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Chris was dressed in a black turtleneck and tanned slacks looking like a handsome but tortured artist. And Miyuki had downed the first glass of wine he could find out of sheer thirst.
Chris, on the other hand, swirled his wine around the glass first, looking at it in the light before he took a tentative sip. He winced. The bridge of his nose wrinkled in elegant disgust.
“They always serve the cheap stuff.”
Miyuki sighed. “I want you to know that I’ve never hated you more than in this moment.”
Chris laughed--probably because there was no real heat in Miyuki’s words. He linked arms with Miyuki successfully preventing him from running away from this whole awful affair.
“Come on, let me introduce you to everyone.”
When Chris said ‘everyone’ he literally meant everyone. And Miyuki was seriously reconsidering if he really did hate Chris or not. Chris must have understood on some level if the way he kept handing Miyuki glasses of wine was any indication.
And free alcohol was free alcohol so Miyuki sipped at his glass as he was introduced to and promptly forgot the names of the entire Literature department. It also gave him something to do besides awkwardly stand around.
Miyuki did enjoy listening to Chris talk to his professors and fellow grad students. Probably more than he should have. It turned out when you weren’t on the receiving end it was nice, even amusing, to listen to Chris’ friendly but merciless comments.
It took four or five glasses of wine before someone spoke directly to Miyuki. And Miyuki was pleasantly tipsy so it took him a moment to realize that he was actually being insulted.
“I’m sorry if we’re boring you,” said a professor flippantly. “I know that these kinds of things can be difficult to understand.”
Miyuki paused from drinking his fourth or fifth glass of wine and looked around the small group that had gathered to verify that, yes, the professor was talking to him.
“They can be,” admitted Miyuki as he thought back on all of his long conversations with Chris.
And he was ready to leave it at that--except the professor tutted in mock sympathy. “It’s such a shame that the younger generation refuses to take the time to appreciate the classics.”
Miyuki swirled his crap wine around the plastic cup. “Well...isn’t it your job to explain it?”
Next to him Chris coughed and it suspiciously sounded like a laugh.
The professor frowned. “I shouldn’t have to explain why a classic is a classic. These books have stood the test of time for a reason.”
“Yeah, sure,” admitted Miyuki with a shrug. “But just because something is old doesn’t mean it’s automatically better.”
“But that does mean it’s earned our respect and admiration--”
Miyuki laughed. Outloud. Rather obnoxiously. “Says who? It’s possible for something to be considered a prolific work and still be irrelevant to modern society.”
And it looked like the professor wasn’t getting it. In fact, it looked like he was getting progressively more and more red faced--which was usually a sign to let the subject drop.
Miyuki ignored it.
“Look, the publishing industry is like any old institution. The decision of what is worth publishing and what isn’t worth publishing is determined by old men. Those books are then reviewed by old men. And then--” Miyuki looked the professor up and down. “Discussed and studied by more old men and then you all pat yourselves on the back for being so clever. And all of that...well...all of that has nothing to do with me and my life.”
The professor sputtered before turning towards Chris. “Takigawa--”
“Yes?” said Chris blandly as he swirled his wine.
“I expected better from you, Takigawa.”
Chris raised his glass and didn’t break eye contact as he took a sip. He lowered the glass and flashed a tiny smirk. So small and so vicious. And filled with such unflinching confidence that it made Miyuki swallow.
“I could say the same thing about you, professor.”
Miyuki didn’t see when the professor walked away. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Chris. It was how Miyuki caught the split second Chris’ expression hardened into something cold and unforgiving before he managed to school his features back to neutrality.
Miyuki let out a shuddering breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding.
Chris set down his glass of wine on a table and grabbed Miyuki’s hand. And Miyuki found himself being physically dragged from this party. And it wasn’t until the cold night air slapped Miyuki in the face that he realized exactly what he had done.
Miyuki dropped Chris’ hand. And he couldn’t help wiping his hands on his pants as he ducked his head. “Sorry about...that.”
Chris didn’t reply. And Miyuki raised his head.
And Miyuki suddenly realized Chris was drunk. Like really, really drunk. Like so drunk he stumbled a little as he laughed. The sound loud and obnoxious in the quiet of the night. Chris laughed so hard he almost folded himself in half.
And Miyuki reached out on instinct to steady Chris before he fell over. Chris didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t seem to care as his momentum caused him to crash into Miyuki. Chris just seemed to go with it. Burying his nose into the crook of Miyuki’s neck. And it was Miyuki’s turn to stumble.
“Don’t be sorry,” said Chris in between his giggles. And Miyuki could feel how his smile pressed against his skin. “That’s why I invited you in the first place.”
Miyuki pulled away. He regretted it because Chris was warm and Chris was close, but he had to know what kind of expression Chris was making. “What?”
“Don’t you know?” said Chris with a wide shit-eating grin. “You’re kind of famous on campus.”
“I’m what?” sputtered Miyuki because surely he had heard that wrong.
“Miyuki Kazuya. Structural Engineering Major. The top student in a program that’s known for being the toughest in the country. Brutal. Intimidating. Crazy smart. Known to make TA’s weep tears and cower in fear. Rumor has it he derailed a professor’s whole lecture with a single sentence and then looked like he was falling asleep as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.”
Miyuki was trying to wrap his brain around this portrayal of him. He hadn’t really done anything out of the ordinary. In fact, he probably should have curbed his behavior in college. Acting like he had in High School had only resulted in him getting his ass kicked--which had been a terrible mistake since Miyuki only doubled down on being a little shit. And--
Chris let out a pleased hum as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Apparently trusting Miyuki to guide them as they walked. It was a foolish mistake since Miyuki couldn’t take his eyes off of the long line of Chris’ neck, the flush on his cheeks, the way he licked his lips before smiling, small and secretive and so...so...
“You haven’t disappointed.”
And Chris glanced at him still wearing that smile. The one that would haunt Miyuki long after. Because Chris smiled like he liked him. Like he liked him and like it was easy.
“You’re a badass, babe.”
---
Kuramochi thought it was hilarious.
“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Miyuki Kazuya?”
Miyuki tried to ignore his roommate--though thankfully not for much longer. Kuramochi already had too much blackmailing material on Miyuki and he was trying not to add to the stockpile. Ignoring Kuramochi wouldn’t stop him from cackling obnoxiously but at least Miyuki could attempt to check out of his conversation.
“You’re reading novels and you went to a wine and cheese mixer. What did you even wear?” Kuramochi dissolved into another fit of laughter. “Please tell me you wore a baseball hat sideways.”
Miyuki flipped him off.
---
Miyuki wasn’t prone to looking back. The past couldn’t be changed so why bother. There were, however, times when he wondered how he had gotten here. Times when he would trace the steps that led him to this time and place. When he would look back on all of the books read and all of the coffees drunk.
All of the times Chris had called him ‘babe’.
And Miyuki hadn’t realized it at the time, but that first time at that end of the year party--that was the first step. The first deviation from the path Miyuki had been walking on. The first time he decided to go in a different direction, towards a different destination. What it led to...well…
Today it led to Chris’ car.
A black sedan that was somehow practical in size and shape and impractical in every other way. Miyuki felt extra grubby as he slid onto the soft leather seat. He curled his hands around his coffee in order to stop himself from touching anything. It was honestly baffling that this was a car--it was all screens and lights and chrome.
“How’s your thesis coming along?”
And Miyuki didn’t think there was anything particularly funny about that question, but Chris laughed anyway.
“I’m in the middle of rewriting most of it actually.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know why you’re so shocked,” replied Chris as he leaned over to open the glove compartment. “It’s all your fault.”
“My fault?”
Chris huffed a laugh as he fished out a pair of sunglasses. Shoving aside a couple of books to get to them. And Miyuki was pretty sure the glove compartment wasn’t supposed to be used as a library, but it was such a Chris thing to do.
Miyuki picked up one of the books. It was the same one that Chris had given him on the last day of class. The cover art was different and it was obvious that Chris had owned this copy for a while. The corners were no longer sharp. The spine was cracked down the middle. There were color-coded notes stuck in between the pages.
Chris loved this book.
It was something Miyuki already knew, but the proof of it somehow took him completely by surprise.
Chris slipped his sunglasses on before starting the car. “Do you ever get so caught up in your own shit that you lose sight of what you were after in the first place?”
Miyuki studied Chris’ profile as he turned to make sure it was okay to back up. “No.”
“I didn’t think I did either...and then I started to talk to you about books.” And Miyuki wished Chris wasn’t wearing those dark sunglasses because he wanted to know what his eyes looked like when he added, “Miyuki Kazuya, you upended my whole life.”
“Funny,” replied Miyuki as he ran his fingers along the spine of the book. “I feel like that should be my line.”
---
“I invited Chris-senpai to the party.”
Kuramochi looked at him unimpressed as they continued to climb the stairs of their dorm. They had planned a casual graduation/congratulations-we-survived-living-together-for-four-years get together. Which really meant Kuramochi had organized it and invited all of his art major friends and also expected Miyuki to show up at the bar at some point.
“So?”
“So...I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I don’t know why you’re freaking out,” said Kuramochi unhelpfully. “You have a coffee date with the guy practically every week.”
“Okay, first of all, they’re not dates--”
Kuramochi shrugged. “Agree to disagree.”
“Also you’ve never met Chris-senpai so I know you don’t understand, but trust me, he’s going to walk in wearing his jeans and his t-shirt--”
“Literally everyone who’s going to be at this party is going to be wearing jeans and a t-shirt--”
“Looking like he just got off of a first-class flight and the paparazzi are waiting to photograph him walking through the airport.”
Kuramochi paused in the landing in order to stop and stare at Miyuki. “That’s weirdly specific.”
“Un-huh,” deadpanned Miyuki as he passed him and kept going up the stairs. “You say that now.”
---
Kuramochi wasn’t laughing when Chris actually showed up to their (Kuramochi’s) party.
Like Miyuki predicted Chris was wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt was revealed after he took off his coat. Chris left the coat carelessly on the growing pile of outerwear in the corner booth they had commandeered. Carelessly because it looked like his coat cost as much as the whole pile combined.
And Chris smiled his disarming smile. The one he used on unsuspecting first years because he thought he was being friendly and polite. When in reality it was a devastating thing to be hit with first thing in the morning.
Even Kuramochi seemed momentarily stunned before he introduced himself. And Miyuki wanted to feel bad...except it was so damn funny.
Chris eventually excused himself to order a beer and Kuramochi had at least the decency to wait until he was walking away before punching Miyuki in the arm.
“Shit, he really does look like an off duty model.”
“I want to say, ‘I told you so’, but the truth hurts me just as much as it hurts you.”
“I somehow doubt that.” Kuramochi then clapped a hand on Miyuki’s shoulder. “I get it now.”
Miyuki rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that.”
“Ah, okay,” scoffed Kuramochi as he grabbed his beer from the table and took a sip. “Why isn’t it like that?”
And Miyuki realized he didn’t have a good response to that.
---
Especially after three beers when Chris smiled that lazy smile of his and said, “Hey, babe.”
Especially when both of them pressed against one another in the booth they were sitting in.
Especially when Chris looked so sleepy and so soft as he asked if he could crash at Miyuki’s place.
---
Miyuki moved into the postgraduate dorms with Shirasu and was immediately low key intimidated.
Shirasu was the most responsible person Miyuki had ever met. He kept a bullet journal with his schedule and daily goals neatly outlined. He premade his lunches and neatly stacked and labeled all of his Tupperware in the fridge. He managed to keep actual living plants alive.
Miyuki didn’t know anyone who was good at taking care of themselves let alone a small garden.
“It’s unnatural,” said Miyuki as he poked at a leaf with the end of his pencil.
“I’m pretty sure plants are the very definition of natural,” replied Chris without looking up from the papers he was grading. And, shit, was Miyuki glad that he would never, ever had to submit another essay for Chris to read ever again.
Miyuki obnoxiously slurped the last of his coffee through the straw. “I’m talking about taking care of like ten plants while also getting a master’s degree in structural engineering.”
Chris finally looked up. He tilted his head to the side as he considered the plants sitting around the window. “I think they’re nice.”
---
Wisely, Shirasu did not trust Miyuki to take care of his plants over winter break, but he did trust Chris. Which was how Chris ended up with a key to their dorm.
And Miyuki was sure Shirasu regretted that decision the first time Chris stumbled into their dorm drunk. And Shirasu had run out of his room holding a baseball bat. Which was a way better weapon than the slipper Miyuki had groggily picked up.
But instead of being pissed, Shirasu had taken one look at Chris and shrugged.
And Miyuki couldn’t help asking, “That’s it?”
Shirasu shrugged again. “What? I like your boyfriend.”
“He’s not--”
“Hey, babe,” said Chris, who was all smiles as he draped his arms around Miyuki’s shoulders. Pinning his arms and rendering the slipper he was holding completely useless.
Shirasu gave Miyuki a leveled look--which was way more intimidating when paired with the baseball bat. “Goodnight, you two.”
“Night, Shirasu,” said Chris with a weak wave. “Sorry for waking you.”
“Just try to be quieter next time.”
“M’kay,” murmured Chris into the curve of Miyuki’s neck and Miyuki really, really wanted to hit him with his slipper because he was too close. Way too close. Closer than he should be. “Mind if I crash here tonight?”
“If you meant that literally then mission accomplished.”
Chris laughed. One of his hands dropped from around Miyuki’s shoulders in order to curl around his waist as Miyuki led him towards his bedroom. “Thanks for putting up with me.”
And it wasn’t that. Not exactly. It was more like--
“You really must like me,” said Chris flippantly before he collapsed on to Miyuki’s bed. All loose limbs and smiles.
Something like that.
---
There were so many different sides to Chris. So many layers that changed and shifted over time. They looked different in daylight, under street lamps, in the harsh fluorescent glow. There were sides of him that would only emerge under the cover of darkness, in the quiet of the night, when everything was still and peaceful. When it was just the two of them. Alone.
Like this. Sitting side by side in Chris’ car. The short drive to Miyuki’s dorm made even shorter simply because Miyuki didn’t want it to end.
Miyuki sipped at his coffee and wondered how long it would take for him to see all of the different sides to Chris. To see all of his many layers and hidden depths. And after that...how much longer would it take for Miyuki to understand them.
A long time. So long it was almost overwhelming. Definitely too long for this too short car ride.
Chris pulled up in front of his dorm building and Miyuki made no effort to get out of the car. It was irrational but he didn’t want to leave when his mind was such a mess. Miyuki hated how his thoughts were crowded and confusing. How they were weighed down by invisible variables. How the outcome of his calculations were dependent on things he could not control.
How he wanted nothing more than to find a clear and sure path to follow.
And Chris must have understood on some level because he waited. His hand wrapped casually around the steering wheel. His car idling quietly in front of the dorms. The smell of leather and coffee filling this small space they had carved out for each other.
And eventually, Chris smiled. “Later, babe.”
And it was technically still a goodbye.
But it felt more like a hello.
---
Miyuki
If someone calls you ‘babe’ what does that mean?
Miyuki
Don’t leave me on ‘read’.
Kuramochi
The dictionary defines ‘babe’ as: an affectionate form of address, typically for someone with whom one has a sexual or romantic relationship.
Miyuki
I’ve already looked up the definition and it didn’t help.
Miyuki
Seriously?
Kuramochi
Are you coming to my art show tonight?
Miyuki
Yes. Though I don’t know why.
Kuramochi
Because we’re friends.
Do you know what it means when someone calls you a ‘friend’?
Kuramochi
The dictionary defines ‘friend’ as: a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection.
Miyuki
Please stop.
Kuramochi
LOL
---
It didn’t occur to Miyuki until he was standing in front of Kuramochi’s light installation, scrambling to come up with something to say about it, that he wished Chris was here with him. Chris would know what to say. Chris would probably have something interesting to say. But since he wasn’t here it was up to Miyuki to be interesting.
Miyuki watched the quickly moving lights and how they looped around each other in never-ending patterns. Every once in and a while they would run into each other and spark, bright and brilliant, before continuing on their way.
“What do you think?”
Miyuki glanced at Kuramochi as he walked up already looking amused and smug like he knew exactly how much Miyuki hated that question.
“It looks…” Miyuki shrugged as he gestured vaguely towards the installation. “Structurally sound.”
“Wow,” replied Kuramochi. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Miyuki couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. And, well, two people could play that game. Miyuki hummed and swirled his glass of wine--and it was annoying really how well he had learned how to do that.
“It’s a fascinating commentary on how isolating the modern living experience can be.”
Kuramochi stared at him for a second and then two before shaking his head. “I hate you.”
Miyuki laughed. “Because I’m wrong or because I’m right?”
Kuramochi walked away and Miyuki figured that was an answer enough.
Miyuki drank his crap wine and watched the lights run, run, run and sometimes run into each other.
And Miyuki wondered if he understood the meaning better than he thought.
---
“How the hell did I end up here?”
Chris laughed. It was louder and more obnoxious than his usual laugh. Mostly because he was three beers in, but also because he was in the comfort of his own home.
Which brought Miyuki back to his original question. How had he ended up at this party? In Chris’ apartment? Playing some kind of complicated drinking game whose rules Miyuki still didn’t understand. And he was starting to suspect, as he downed his third shot, that that was the whole point.
“Well,” said Chris and it looked like he was seriously considering the question. That illusion was quickly shattered. “Earlier this year you realized that you hadn’t completed all of your gen ed classes--”
“Ugh,” groaned Miyuki. “That’s not--”
“And you were surprisingly bad at reading comprehension and needed help so you sought out your gracious and very helpful TA and--”
“That’s not--you know what, nevermind. Give me a damn card.”
Miyuki pulled a random playing card from the pile on the floor and flipped it over for everyone to see. It was an eight of diamonds--and it wasn’t a good sign that everyone started laughing and clapping.
“What?” asked Miyuki. “What does that mean?”
“You have to spin around three times and try to throw a crumpled up piece of paper into the trash can,” explained (or bullshitted) Chris, at this point, Miyuki couldn’t tell.
“What the fuck,” breathed Miyuki. “Fine. Fucking bring it on.”
---
Miyuki was never drinking with Humanities majors ever again.
He told Chris so as he slumped on the couch. The room was slightly tilting to the right. It was distracting. Though not as distracting as the warmth of Chris’ side pressed against his own. And since he was leaning that way anyway, Miyuki dropped his head onto Chris’ shoulder.
“You engineers don’t party?”
“We party like normal college students with normal drinking games--not whatever the hell that was. Fuck. Why aren’t you wasted?”
“Because I know what the capital of Finland is.”
Miyuki opened and closed his mouth--because what the fuck were the rules to this drinking game? Miyuki meant to ask as he turned his head, but he stopped when his brain registered just how close they were. How they were face to face, almost nose to nose.
“I can’t tell if you’re playing with me or not,” and Miyuki’s tone of voice was supposed to be accusatory but instead it came out a little breathless. And he found himself staring at the seam of Chris’ lips. The way they parted on a sharp inhale of breath.
“I feel like that should be my line.”
And Miyuki leaned even closer until their foreheads were pressed against one another. Until his smile was almost pressed against those lips. Until all he needed to do was whisper the words, “Hey, babe.”
Chris smiled and Miyuki could feel him exhale even as he pulled away. “How about you tell me that when you’re sober?”
Miyuki snorted as he shook his head. He flashed his own smile. The one that he knew was cocky and challenging.
“I will if you will.”
---
Miyuki made it another fifteen minutes at Kuramochi’s art show before calling it a night.
“This is honestly longer than I thought you’d stay,” laughed Kuramochi when Miyuki found him in order to say he was leaving. “You okay to get home?”
Miyuki waved off his concern. “I know my limits when it comes to cheap wine now.”
Kuramochi smirked. “Un-huh.”
Miyuki rolled his eyes. “Later, asshole.”
And Miyuki wasn’t lying. He wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t even tipsy, just slightly buzzed when he found himself getting on a bus going in the opposite direction as his dorm. Or maybe the buzz he felt crawling under his skin had nothing to do with alcohol. It certainly felt like it as he rode the elevator up to Chris’ apartment.
Chris looked surprised to see him as he opened the door. He still stood aside to let Miyuki into his apartment. Closing the door behind him with a slightly baffled expression still on his face.
“Hi, how’s it going?” said Miyuki because that seemed like as good a place to start as any.
“Um, good,” replied Chris. “You?”
And that seemed like enough of a prompt for Miyuki to blurt out, “I was at Kuramochi’s art show. Miserable and--”
“How was the wine?”
“Atrocious.”
Chris laughed, low and quiet. It was a reserved sound. Made even more so as he glanced down at his feet. “What are you doing here, Miyuki?”
“Ah...well…” Miyuki shifted from one foot to another. “I...I don’t really know if I’m being honest.”
Chris tilted his head to the side as he considered Miyuki. “I’d like to know if you’re up for trying to explain it.”
“Shit. I don’t...I don’t even know.” Miyuki sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I was standing in this gallery looking at this light installation and it was well built and it was nice to look at and I appreciated the effort Kuramochi had put into it. But I didn’t get it?”
It was then that Miyuki realized he had been gesturing with his hands. Just vague, unhelpful circles. He dropped them back to his sides.
“But...eventually I realized I didn’t need to understand it to like it. And...I don’t know...that thought had never occurred to me before…and well...here I am…”
When Miyuki looked at Chris he realized Chris wasn’t looking back at him. Instead, his eyes were downcast as if searching the floor for answers. Chris gave his head a small shake before he finally made eye contact. His gaze settled on Miyuki in that steady and sure way that meant he had his full, undivided attention.
“Miyuki...what are you trying to say?”
And Miyuki took a deep breath and smiled.
“Hey, babe.”