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“I don’t want to talk about it” is the first thing Eijun says when he enters Miyuki’s car.
Miyuki hums in a noncommittal way, messing with the radio station. It’s all for show—he’s positive the damned thing hasn't worked since the day he bought it but he needed to do something with his hands as to keep up the facade that he was not waiting in anticipation for Eijun to enter his car (and his life, consequently, but that was a larger topic tabled for another afternoon). Eijun kicks his shoes off and throws them in the back of the car, much to Miyuki’s annoyance, and takes out his phone, hooking it up to Miyuki’s sound system.
“Seat Belt,” Miyuki says in lieu of a better response, pulling out of the shady ass convenience store that Eijun wanted him to pick him up at.
“I trust you,” Eijun shrugs, adjusting the headrest, “Just don’t crash.”
Miyuki looks at Eijun (like really looks at him—he takes in his tired expression, his unkempt hair, and his baggy t-shirt that he won at some county fair) and decides to drop it.
“Whatever.”
A single rain droplet hits the windshield of Miyuki’s car and he frowns, looking towards the sky. Light rain clouds litter the otherwise sunny airspace and Miyuki almost finds it comical how symbolic the whole thing was. He puts the address into his phone (and almost laughs at the fact that he visits it so much he has it fucking saved ) and tries his best to ignore the thunderstorm next to him.
************************
Miyuki meets Eijun on a Saturday night, at a party that he had absolutely no business attending. The memory is nostalgic in a way—not him meeting Eijun but rather the moments beforehand. The feelings of pure bliss that he didn't know he would miss, a bliss that came from not knowing who the ever-loving fuck Eijun Sawamura was.
But then he did.
His head was a little...fuzzy—he was traipsing the line between perfectly sober and respectfully tipsy (and toppling over at fuckshit drunk)—and he could feel the music pulsating through his brain, making his amygdala do somersaults. It was a nice enough sensation; he wasn't sure where his friends went but he didn't mind being alone, content with the euphoria that came from just existing with this vodka soda that he was nursing.
“Hey you,” a voice says from behind him, leaning against his shoulder, “You busy? I need to go on a beer run.”
Miyuki looks down at the boy next to him, squinting to register his face amidst the colored lights.
“Who are you,” Miyuki says, not realizing how judgemental he probably sounds, and the boy laughs dryly.
“Eijun Sawamura. And you?”
“Kazuya...Miyuki,” he says slowly as if he is unsure.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Eijun smiles, grabbing Miyuki’s hand, “Now come to the store with me.”
************************
“Can you fucking say something, ” Eijun grumbles after about an hour and a half of silence, “Cause I’m getting really bored.”
The funniest thing about Eijun was how indifferent he was to everybody who was not him. The way he probably sees it he is the center of the whole fucking universe and everyone else is simply just planets orbiting around him (Miyuki being one of the forgettable planets like Neptune or something) waiting for Eijun (the sun, in this scenario) at his every beck and call.
But you are at his beck and call, you idiot , Miyuki remembers, and the idea dies as quickly as it came.
“I’m trying to drive.”
“It’s a straight road, Kazuya. I promise you can multitask.”
Miyuki kisses his teeth and tightens his hands on the wheel.
“I thought you said you didn't want to talk,” Miyuki says under his breath. It comes out a bit more bitter than he intended it to, but there was nothing he could do about the words after they had left his mouth.
Eijun rolls his eyes (Miyuki doesn't see it but he just feels like he does) and lets out a heavy sigh.
“I said I didn't want to talk about it .”
“Same difference.”
“ No , it isn't,” Eijun says slowly, “They are completely different things. I want to talk to you just not about it .”
“Fine,” Miyuki scoffs, realizing the argument would get him absolutely nowhere, “What do you want to talk about.”
Miyuki isn't sure what Eijun is thinking but almost a million topics enter his brain, the biggest ones being “Why do you keep doing this” and “Why do you keep going back to him”, though Miyuki’s favorite (and the one he wants to be answered) being a simple “ Why me ”. Eijun taps the window and Miyuki shakes his head, once again cursing himself for purposely putting himself between a rock and a hard place.
(But the rock isn't hard at all. He has every instrument to escape this figurative prison he has trapped himself in—every chisel and saw and sledgehammer—but he chooses to stay)
************************
They never end up going back to the party.
They get to the store (Miyuki is pretty much sober at this point, though he is nursing a killer headache due to the fact that he hadn't eaten all day) but lose the motivation to go back due to the fact that Eijun was kissing him like Miyuki himself—simple and ordinary Miyuki Kazuya—was the one thing giving him life.
He tries to walk himself through the entire scenario (whilst shoving his tongue down Eijun’s throat) and he comes up with this:
At 8 O’clock he meets Eijun
At 8:30 he goes into the car with Eijun
At 8:41 he enters 7/11...with Eijun.
They mill in the store for around 8 minutes which means that they leave at around 9, and now it is… 9:17 (he checks the dashboard during the 3 milliseconds Eijun gives him to catch his breath) and he is sitting in a parking lot kissing a boy he met around an hour ago (and disappointing his parents, probably).
It’s not his highest moment. It’s not his lowest either, given the fact that it was still an enjoyable situation that he found himself in, but it was not something he prided himself in.
“What did you say your name was again,” Eijun says airily, holding Miyuki’s face in his hands.
“Kazuya Miyuki,” Miyuki says dumbly. His lips kind of hurt and he feels a bit lightheaded (though the headache is gone) and Eijun laughs slightly, “You make a good first impression.”
“Uh... thanks .”
At some point in time Eijun takes him home (Miyuki doesn't like to admit it but given the fact that it’s the most action he's got in a while, he probably passed out in the passenger seat of his car) and Miyuki stumbles into bed, suddenly getting hit by a wave of fatigue once his head hits the pillow.
************************
The next time he sees Eijun he is under the arm of some brown-haired dude, and Miyuki tries his hardest not to feel disappointed.
************************
The sun begins to set, placing a golden hue on everything under it, and Miyuki begins to wonder if maybe nightfall will make Eijun shut the fuck up and stop messing with everything in his glove compartment. Miyuki closes his eyes for a moment (he knows he is driving a two-ton vehicle at 5 kilometers above the speed limit but he simply needs a second ) and takes a deep breath, hoping it would either A) allow him to ignore the annoying ass clicking of the compartment or B) signal to Eijun that he was getting mad so maybe he would stop (though he knew he wouldn't).
“ Ka-zu-ya ,” Eijun sings, waving a cylindrical object in the air (almost smacking Miyuki in the face in the process) before popping the cap off, “You didn't tell me you keep snacks in here!”
Miyuki recognizes the container of pretzel rods before he has a chance to look at them, mentally cursing Kuramochi for putting them there.
“You fucker,” Miyuki curses, “If you get crumbs on the floor I will kill you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eijun says, waving Miyuki off and eating another pretzel rod.
Miyuki shakes his head, looking at the road ahead of him. They still had another twelve hours until they got to Kanazawa, and judging by the huge-ass box of pretzel rods that Kuramochi bought at the convenience store—pretzel rods that Kuramochi bought with Miyuki’s money when he claimed to be buying him gas—Miyuki would be subjected to another hour and a half of chewing noises from Eijun’s side of the car.
Miyuki turns up the music in an attempt to drown out the sound, but Eijun took it as an invitation to chew louder.
************************
“You know he’s just playing you,” Sanada laughs, looking Miyuki up and down. He cannot imagine how dumb he looks (his hair is covered with snow and his clothes faintly smell like smoke and oil, though he’s sure the stench of shame masks it well) and he doesn't want to.
“I know,” Miyuki sighs, taking off his coat and falling onto his jacket, “But I want to be a nice guy.”
“Nice guy,” Sanada scoffs, pouring Miyuki a cup of coffee, “Funny way to say victim .”
If Miyuki’s hands were not basically frozen in place he would flip Sanada off but due to the fact that he had reduced dextile motion he settled for a simple “fuck off”.
Sanada lets it go.
(But, in hindsight, Miyuki wishes he says more)
************************
“Miyuki. The exit.”
“Huh?”
“The exit,” Eijun says louder. He takes his legs off Miyuki’s dashboard, quickly setting them on the ground, “You are missing the exit! It’s right there!”
Miyuki makes an “o” with his lips before flicking on his right turning signal, barely checking for cars before making the most illegal slide in his life. A truck behind him honks and Miyuki rolls his eyes, turning off his turning signal once he is finally in the exiting lane.
“You could have killed us!”
Eijun is now yelling at him and Miyuki laughs bitterly, thinking of a world where he could have died trapped in a car with the worst (and best, unfortunately) person he had ever met in his life. It’s bittersweet in a way; a break from this never-ending loop that Eijun had him in, though by very brutal and violent means.
“That’s hilarious,” Miyuki deadpans, breaking his concentration from the road to look at Eijun, “Because last time I checked, we are still alive .”
Eijun looks at Miyuki wide-eyed with his mouth agape. He looks amused, in a strange way, and he quickly breaks out into laughter, his voice drowning out the music. Miyuki looks at him skeptically, watching the way his hair would shake slightly with each giggle or the way the streetlights seemed to illuminate every single one of his features, making him almost look like a painting of sorts.
At the beginning of the trip, he decided this one would be his last. He would drop Eijun off at his dumb-ass boyfriend's house, delete his number, and block it too.
But looking at him now, under the soft moonlight, his voice a siren call of sorts, he realizes that maybe being caught in Eijun’s orbit is the best place to be.