Chapter Text
Kurosawa never really thought too much about his appearance before, let alone used it to his advantage in anything. His look, what everyone else referred to as one of his prominent aspects, was actually sort of one sore point in his life. The thing that drew people to him and appreciated him only on the surface and never bothered to see beyond his ikemen image. Of course, that sentiment of himself didn’t let him become sloppy with self-care. In fact, if what people sought of him was only for this so-called ‘perfect’ visage, then he would work his damnedest to make sure everything in and on him was perfect so it wouldn’t be considered his only aspect by others.
Hence, he always made sure to show up at work in his best-pressed suits, flawlessly clean shirts and ties, dress shoes polished till the point of shining, hair combed and gelled just enough to let it rest all day on his head without any stray. He did his work meticulously and made daily targets so that every day he could do better than yesterday.
It felt suffocating sometimes, walking on eggshells all the time and living up to others’ expectations of himself, instead of his own. But he was used to it, growing up with that attitude and manners of striving to be perfect, embedded by his parents since he was little. He was the apple of his parents’ eyes, the ‘good’ son, the complete opposite of his audacious and impulsive elder sister, and a reliable little brother who always had to clean up after his Aneki’s mess or cover for her in front of their parents. So much so that his family always said he was more suitable as a big brother. All of his distant relatives almost always mistook him for one, being the more mature one and all compared to Aneki (and other same-age friends of him). If it weren’t for their birth certificates, Kurosawa would’ve also believed it to be true.
As he grew up, the words cool, calm, and confident were closely associated with him. His renowned composure and sage approaches to problems had prompted him to be easily elected as class president throughout his school years and also captain of his varsity teams. Kurosawa liked it when people relied on him, loved being in control of everything, and being kept busy with work and assignments because it kept him from thinking too much or feeling the void in his life which, if he left those painful feelings to fester, they would’ve been enough to paralyze him.
The fixation on being the epitome of composure had also influenced his daily life even when he was all by himself without anyone to impress. Even when he was a teenager and all of his friends at the University started to enjoy the freedom of adulthood, he didn’t let himself get carried away. He didn’t smoke, only drank moderately, he never pulled all-nighters playing games, and even in casual clothes, he tended to dress more formal than others of the same age.
When he fell for Adachi, everything gradually felt much more interesting. Adachi effortlessly slotted himself at the forefront of his mind and every single day spent observing his crush always brought new surprises to his otherwise rigid life.
About Adachi, he always thinks of Adachi as the epitome of cuteness, every single thing on him and what he does are cute in Kurosawa’s eyes. His bedhead, his mole just above the lips, his penchant for moe sleeves clothing, the way he fidgets nervously with his cuffs when he’s prodded to speak at the meetings, and the way he subconsciously bites his lips when he is concentrating on his works or while drawing. He can never express enough how Adachi’s cuteness might literally end him someday. Weird thing is, he’d never seen or heard others address him as such, not even Tsuge or Fujisaki-san. However, he has seen how Adachi was often mistaken as a rookie by the higher-ups he just met. Referred to as pure and innocent by his seniors? Absolutely, yet never cute. Kurosawa wonders why, but well, he’s glad for it since it means that he’s the only one who ever gets to call Adachi that way.
The thought that it might someday cause a complex for him had never even crossed his mind…
Until those series of mishaps happened….
When that day Minato’s ex, that Keita boy, called him “ossan” in a mocking way, he admits he was totally shocked and offended, as that was the first time ever someone addressed him as such. But he quickly brushed it off since that boy was rude to everyone anyway. Besides, being with Adachi on their first outing as a couple, there was simply nothing that could ruin his mood.
Another incident that irked him happened not long after Valentine’s day.
Kurosawa was involved in a long-time project with another company which had him attend regular meetings in the next city, three to four days a week for over a month now. He was already familiar with many employees there by now, especially the head of the project, Mr Nakajima, a kind middle-aged man who always looked smiley.
Due to this new responsibility, Kurosawa had to work out of the office most of the days. Both he and Adachi had tried their best to maneuver around their schedules in order to eat dinner together every night and take turns to sleep over. Nevertheless, he still felt very depleted of his daily Adachi dose in the recent weeks since normally they would also have lunch together every day and Kurosawa would never pass on the opportunity to flirt with him whenever he could.
That afternoon, Kurosawa was waiting for the elevator after a long exhausting day, eager and desperate to finally be able to go home where Adachi would spend the night. His mind had started to conjure a series of pictures of them having a candlelight dinner, wine, followed immediately by clothes cluttering on the floor, and limbs tangled on the bed…when he was abruptly jolted by a hand on his shoulder.
“Kurosawa-kun! I was looking for you…” Mr Nakajima spoke from behind him.
“Ah...I apologize, Sir, I didn’t realize you were here…how may I help you?” Kurosawa was silently praying for Mr Nakajima to not be one of those magic users able to read his mind.
“I wanted to give you something, please wait a moment…” he proceeded to rummage his bag.
“Actually last Sunday I was accompanying my son to the Comic-Con and I happened to see you there waiting in line for Ragna Crimson’s tickets, was that the one for the themed café and figurine exhibition that’ll be held this weekend?” asked Mr Nakajima.
“Oh..y-yes Sir, I didn’t know you were also a fan…” Kurosawa was surprised to hear this.
“Well, I’m not, but my son asked me to buy those limited tickets, and they were only sold that day, but I saw you were a little far on the back though, did you manage to buy it?” He inquired.
“Sadly, no, and I'd waited there for almost an hour, too…” Kurosawa was reminded of how dejected his beloved was that day for not being able to attend the first-ever Ragna Crimson’s limited exhibition. They had been looking forward to it ever since they saw the ad months ago, yet they weren’t prepared for the place to be that crowded. It was their first time going to such an event after all.
“I figured…anyway I saw you were with a boy back then, was he your little brother?” asked Mr Nakajima.
“Pa-pardon?” Kurosawa thought he just misheard something crucial.
“The boy that was with you that day, I recognized him from the picture of you two together on your phone wallpaper since you sit beside me during meetings…he looked like a high schooler though, so I kind of assumed he was your little brother?” Mr Nakajima uttered innocently. Kurosawa almost choked hearing that, if it weren’t for his terrific composure, he surely would have. Kurosawa always knew Adachi to be cute and young-looking, but a high-schooler?? Isn’t that preposterous?! He was shocked speechless.
“Kurosawa-kun….?”
“Ah ye-yes Sir, s-sorta…” Kurosawa answered in small voice while difficultly swallowing a hard lump in his throat, he didn’t even know which one he was saying ‘yes’ to. He didn’t think he would be able to explain about their chummy picture even if he said Adachi was his best friend and he didn’t want to have to explain himself anyway. They hadn’t even come out to their parents yet! He just wanted this to end quickly, really, so he could go home because every minute spent longer here meant shorter time with Adachi tonight. Thus, he just let Mr Nakajima go with his assumptions. Apparently, his answer was clear enough for Mr Nakajima to not leave any other interpretations.
“That’s good then, here, you can have my ticket and you can give my son’s to your brother,” Mr Nakajima handed him the two tickets Kurosawa had longed for.
“But, Sir…I can’t possibly…” Kurosawa trailed. “Let me pay for these….”
“It’s alright, my family and I have to go to Chuncheon this Friday night for an emergency so we couldn’t use these tickets anyway, just take it as a gift for your hard work all this time, okay?” He continued.
“And before I forgot…This one here is a special ticket with a pass for its themed game zone or…arcade, whatever it is called, but it’s only open for those below 19 years old, make sure to tell your brother that so he won’t miss it,” Mr Nakajima patted his shoulder. Kurosawa suddenly felt his knees go weak hearing the last words. He felt like crying.
“Thank you very much, Mr Nakajima! Adac- I mean…Ki-Kiyoshi would be really happy for this,” Kurosawa tried to hold on to his last composure and worded his words carefully.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s nice to see you brothers really close with each other despite the big age gap…I wished my sons were more like you guys, they fight all day long though….by the way, don’t mention to your brother that these are from me, I’m sure he’d be more thrilled thinking that his beloved big brother was the one gifting it for him,” Mr Nakajima commented while smiling radiantly.
Kurosawa felt stabbed in the back by how convinced Mr Nakajima was that he and Adachi had a big age gap just from the picture. It didn't sit right with him, knowing the nature of his relationship with Adachi. But then again, it was his own fault for not answering clearer so it wasn't like he could blame Mr Nakajima. The guy was just being honest and kind. Kurosawa simply had no more strength left to form coherent words, so he just nodded.
“Then I’ll leave first, thank you for your hard work today.”
“Thank you for your hard work, Sir, and have a safe flight!” Kurosawa bowed to Mr Nakajima and didn’t dare to raise his head until the said man left, for fear of being caught red-handed while lying recklessly about Adachi. He felt drained all of a sudden, yet he needed to quickly go home. The traffic would be jam-packed soon and he would be late to see his fiancé. The thought of his sweet angel’s lit-up face when he’d find out about the ticket was enough to boost Kurosawa’s mood again. “I need to get the camera ready.” He thought happily.
That night, Adachi’s joyful exclamation when Kurosawa handed him the tickets and the reward he gave Kurosawa afterwards in the bedroom, was mind-blowing enough that Kurosawa easily swept his inexplicably unpleasant feelings that day under the rug. He really should treat Mr Nakajima to a meal next time for gifting him such a blessing like this. It wasn’t every day his shy angel would initiate intimacy between them with this level of enthusiasm after all and it felt heavenly. As they both drifted into sleep while cuddling after their passionate love-making sessions, he told Adachi who gave those tickets but kept the rest of what happened earlier with him. He slipped into dreamland while listening to Adachi’s even breathing on his neck.
Kurosawa never really thought too much about his appearance before…
Yet, the universe seemed adamant to tell him otherwise.
-to be continued-
Kurosawa's wallpaper (re:the source of misunderstanding)
