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Kuramochi Youichi was born into this world fighting. He tore through with a shrill scream, barely any tears, and a voice that declared to the people on this planet that he was ready.
Youichi couldn’t remember a time where he wasn’t fighting. He grew up around other snot-nosed kids trying to pick fights so, as a result, he never looked the other way—never turned his cheek. In fact, he would turn the other kid’s cheek with a clean right hook. The mean look on his face paired with his overall nasty personality just made him more enemies and that, in turn, would cause him to continue fighting.
Youichi couldn’t stop people’s initial assumptions when they saw him for the first time but he sure as hell wasn’t going to allow himself to fall prey to another’s fear and rage. Some of these fights didn’t even start because of him. Other times, people just had so much pride. They saw a threat and decided that if there was some way to crush it, they can assert their dominance over others.
Humans were such fickle creatures.
“You’re a strong boy, You-chan,” His mother was kind, understanding, and also the one person who could knock some sense into him. “But seriously, you need to learn to put that strength into something good.”
Youichi was eight at that time. He couldn’t comprehend what using his strength for good entailed. He wasn’t some superhero—a modern Clark Kent that could show up at any sign of trouble. There were no catastrophic monsters that were tearing apart the world, no world-ending disaster that needed to be stopped with superstrength.
Youichi learned soon after that using his strength to do good didn’t make him a hero. And being a hero didn’t mean that he would have strength to do good.
When his apartment caught on fire, Youichi felt his small world collapse around him so suddenly. The pungent smell of smoke and wildfire filled his lungs expeditiously, the oxygen within his home dissipating at the speed of light—or, at least, that’s what it had felt like. The heat was festering around him, spreading and enlarging from the kitchen throughout the living room and to his room where he and his parents were stuck in.
Youichi, for the first time, wasn’t able to use brute strength to fight himself out of a problem.
Youichi, for the first time, felt fear in its purest form. He felt his heart pound recklessly against his chest, pumping blood throughout his body in a desperate attempt to stay alive in such a hopeless situation. The uncomfortable heat pushed through the cracks of the closed door, burning every inch of his being, and the perspiration caused his clothes to stick onto him like second skin.
All Youichi could do was cry.
Then, he met a hero.
“Don’t worry! We’ll get you out of there!”
Youichi took the hand of a large faceless firefighter from the window of his room. His parents followed him down after. The rest of the day was a blur of ambulances, hospital antiseptic, and cold metal bed rails for Youichi. His head, after all, was still reeling over the shattered pieces of his small, small world.
He wanted to become a fireman. They did good things and Youichi was strong, so obviously he had to become someone his mother would be proud of.
Plus, Youichi would have bet all the money in his charred piggy bank that Clark Kent couldn’t save people from fires like that firefighter had!
He could, but Youichi wasn’t old enough to really understand that yet.
~~XxX~~
“Miyuki.”
The bane of Youichi’s existence, the man that has haunted him since he was in high school, the asshole who wouldn’t leave him alone, Miyuki Kazuya looked up from his plastic container that was holding his lunch, (rice and some aromatic vegetable curry), and blinked up at Youichi as if he was just some poor, innocent, shithead who had no idea of the crimes he had just committed.
“What’s up, Mochi?” Miyuki smirked, his annoyingly handsome face looking more and more like a target for Youichi’s fist. “Want some curry? I can tell you’re starving considering your mom still packs you chicken nuggets.”
Youichi was going to kill this mother fucker.
“No, you walking-talking shit stain!” Youichi snapped. “I want to know why the hell there’s a crude ass drawing of a mustache over my goddamn photo!” He pointed at the brick wall behind them that was carrying all of the pictures of the firefighters that were within the fifty-first division, Seidou’s division. Youichi’s been a fire fighter for only a year or two now but his ability to handle widespread fires in a short time earned him the nickname Seidou’s Cheetah. Lame, he knows, but it was still way better than Miyuki’s own Tanuki Cannon.
But Youichi was more so pointing at his picture that was hanging on the wall. In his previously unmarred picture was Youichi, grinning as he sat, posture straight with his uniform on. However, there was an unsightly black mark shaped to look like a moustache over the frame, violating Youichi’s picture. The other officers inside the station have been snickering and making humiliating remarks over his lack of appropriate facial hair all day. He had just found out that the reason why was because of his stupid photo that was hanging up on that brick fucking wall.
He knew who the culprit was from the minute he saw that black streak on the frame.
Miyuki pushed his lips together, looking ahead at direction of Kuramochi’s pointed finger, clearly attempting to hold back a laugh, and shrugged cluelessly.
“Well, gee, ‘Mochi!” Miyuki gasped dramatically, batting his lashes while placing a palm over his heart. “I hope you’re not trying to accuse little ole’ me of vandalism! And here I thought my own partner would have more trust in me than that!”
“You—! You left your initials on my face like it was a tattoo!”
“Oh yeah,” Miyuki laughed. “I really gotta stop leaving evidence. But then again, an artist needs to sign his work, no?”
“Wow, murder never looked so legal before.” Youichi growled, grabbing the front of Kazuya’s shirt while the fucker kept laughing in his face.
Youichi and Miyuki have, unfortunately, known each other since high school. The two of them had played baseball together and, had also somehow, ended up in the same class for all three years. They were also the only two that were able to deal with each other’s horrible personalities and Kazuya was also the first person to be completely unbothered by the nasty delinquent demeaner Yoichi put off. They were stuck with each other for the long run and Youichi couldn’t say he minded most of the time. But other times, like this one, he wanted to shove an extinguisher up Miyuki’s—
Suddenly, Youichi’s pager began to let out a tone, as did everyone else’s within the building, jolting Miyuki and Yoichi out of their strife. Youichi let go of Miyuki immediately and the two of them shared a look before opening their own respective pagers. The message was quick and precise.
“Code 8. Fire alarm went off on the side of 1-1.”
Through muscle memory, they quickly grabbed their gear, strapping themselves on and jumping into the fire truck they were assigned, Tetsu-san and Jun-san joining in another on after them. Miyuki took to steering, driving to their designated destination that had appeared from the software all departments were equipped with.
Youichi felt the adrenaline pump through is veins, the shudders that would infect him in the beginning now dwindling to just a single tremble of excitement. He desperately hoped that whoever had tripped the fire alarm was okay and safe. However, Youichi couldn’t stop the absolute rush that would sear through him just like a flame tasting the edges of a forest for the first time before spreading into something powerful.
It was almost concerning, he knew, but this was Youichi’s purpose. This was what he was meant to do. Use his strength for good, just like he was meant to.
“You look excited.”
Youichi turned to look at Miyuki from the passenger seat. The confident smirk on the other’s face was a clear sign that he had been feeling the same.
“Yeah, speak for yourself, jerk.” Youichi breathed out.
“It could just be a false alarm, you know.”
“Then stop smirking like you just won the jackpot.”
“We really have issues if we get excited over the prospect of a fire.” Kazuya observed. “Maybe we’re pyro’s.”
“Don’t even.” Youichi sneered in disgust. “Those guys get off on that shit. I just want to put it out, make people safe.”
“Aw, so inspiring!”
“Oh, shut up and drive!”
Miyuki cackled but heeded Youichi’s demand, turning a corner and arriving at the scene. It was clear as day where the fire, or well smoke was appearing from a small one story building. The store’s doors, two glass windows were wide open, airing out the carbon dioxide while some people peered through the glass, trying to get a glance at the situation. Youichi rolled his eyes, stepping out of the vehicle with Miyuki. Why weren’t any of these people trying to help? Was the situation too dangerous for them?
Grabbing the equipment, Youichi quickly stepped to the front of the store, walking in and blinking past the heavy smoke and glancing at the front where an old fashioned cash register was lying on a classic walnut wood counter that had a glass covering on it. The source of the fire was a book. How a book caught on fire, in a bookstore was the least of Youichi’s problems. Right now he had to put out the thankfully mini fire within the store and get the owner to safety.
Speaking of the owner, he was a small man at first glance. Youichi would even say he was thin if it wasn’t for the lean muscles packed onto his exposed arms. And his hair was really pink. Youichi couldn’t really comment on it considering his own hair resembled a forest in color but it was still a unique sight. Then there was the fact that the man was attempting to start up the store’s fire extinguisher to no avail, cursing under his breath as he strived to save whatever remains of the book was left.
“Sir, we’ll take care of the fire. Please make your way outside.” Youichi steeled his expression, walking up to the front to get the man away from the source. Even though the fire was technically controlled and not escalating to a large scale, that much carbon dioxide was still dangerous, and the man was too close to it. He would need to get checked out at a hospital.
The man however, just snapped his head up to face Youichi with a tense scowl and furrowed brows making Youichi stop in his tracks. What the fuck? The man’s eyes were closed but Youichi knew they didn’t need to be open to express the vexation that was exudating from the man.
Then, suddenly, a pleasant smile overtook his features, tense and obviously insincere. He set down the failure of an extinguisher and took to waving a rag that he grabbed from underneath, trying to put out the fire that way.
“Don’t worry, officer, sir, firefighter…person, I got this under control.”
"What?" Youichi could only blink, staring flabbergasted at the sight of the petite bookstore owner that was waving away the smoke from he burnt book that was laying pathetically on the counter.
"God—are you deaf? I said I don't need your help, thank you very much. You can go now. And take your beefy arms with you." The man hissed, the pleasant smile twitching in irritation. What kind of person tells a fire fighter to stay away from a fire?
Miyuki, the annoying asshole he was, laughed in response and ignored Youichi’s stunned expression, making his way to the front with the extinguisher and putting out the fire immediately, much to the man’s chagrin.
“Hey, I told you. I had that.” He coughed, waving away the left over smoke and the smell of the extinguisher.
“Yeah, clearly.” Miyuki snorted. He smiled nervously seeing the displeased look on the man’s face and even Youichi could understand why. That man clearly seemed to fear nothing and, at the same time, was the embodiment of fear.
“Don’t be a smart ass.”
Miyuki gulped. “Yes sir.”
“Excuse me, what’s your name?” Youichi blurted out once he was able to gather his bearings, gazing at the store owner with admiration. For this man to show no fear in the face of a fire, in the face of Youichi who people have complained that his looks deemed him unapproachable, he had to have some serious balls of steels.
That, and he was really hot. Like really, really hot and Youichi was a fireman.
Miyuki and the man both looked at Youichi, baffled at his sudden question. Youichi swallowed nervously and cleared his throat.
“To—we need to record what happened so we would need your name.” The excuse was valid but the way it was delivered made it seem like just an excuse. The man just sighed, crossing his arms and stepped around the counter.
“Ryosuke. Kominato Ryosuke.”
Ryosuke.
“I-I’m sorry about the book.” Youichi reached behind his head to scratch h at his nape, trying to occupy his hand in order not to reveal any more nervous ticks. “Was it valuable?”
“It was just one book.” Ryosuke said with a shrug. “Thankfully it was one that wasn’t really selling either so it’s no loss. I’m just glad it wasn’t the entire the store.”
“Do you know what caused the fire?” Miyuki asked after, setting up the large fans in order to clear the area of smoke.
“Some teenage dirtbags. They thought it would be funny to mess with my store after I kicked them out for creating an uncomfortable environment.” Ryosuke frowned, a small wrinkle forming between his brow and at the bridge of his nose. So cute. Youichi wanted to find those little punks and give them a piece of his mind, he wanted to scare them off from ever targeting Ryosuke again, rage filling him immediately at the thought of Ryosuke getting hurt just because of their immature actions. He opened his mouth, ready to console the man before him, to promise that he would find the perpetrators and that he wouldn’t have to deal with that kind of treatment again.
“You’re pretty.”
Oh shit.
Ryosuke looked up, stunned at the word garbage that had just spewed out of Youichi’s mouth. Holy fuck he said that out loud. Heat began to crawl up Youichi’s neck, staining his face red and his eyes rounded in surprise at his own statement that was so out of place and clearly not professional at all.
Miyuki broke the silence, guffawing loudly at Youichi’s suffering and Youichi swore he was going to run him over the minute he got outside.
Ryosuke’s own lips quirked up, amusement lightening up his previously somber expression. He lifted a hand up to his mouth, the sleeve on his shirt long enough to cover some of his palm and he tilted his head inquisitively.
“My, oh my. Aren’t you quite the smooth operator wonder boy. I’m flattered but please try to focus on your job. I wouldn’t want another book burning down just because you thought I was pretty.”
Youichi wanted to jump in a whole and bury himself six feet under.
“N-No—! I—I mean—sorry, that was extremely unprofessional of me! I just—!” Youichi stuttered out, flustered for the first time in his life much to Ryosuke’s ongoing entertainment. He let out a small airy laugh, the sound ringing through Youichi’s body, reverberating through every single nerve and creating a light airy feeling with each area it traveled to.
Oh, fuck, I’m screwed.
“Sir, we’re going to get you checked out with the paramedics. You were in here way too long with the fire.” Miyuki said attempting to hold back his own laughter and save Youichi from the burning heap of trash he decided to dig himself into.
“Alright.” Ryosuke sighed. “Thank goodness Sawamura wasn’t here today.” With that, Ryosuke stepped out of the store, followed by Miyuki who gave Youichi a wink over his shoulder and skipped out.
Youichi groaned in humiliation, his heart rattling his ribcage at the short interaction he had with Ryosuke. How the hell did he manage to embarrass himself so fast? And what was it about Ryosuke that made Youichi want to clam up and, at the same time, want to sing? Why was facing Ryosuke like facing another fire? The same heart clenching and palm sweating anticipation he would get when it came to saving someone from scorching blazes of embers he was feeling the same way around Ryosuke and it was so unnerving because he couldn’t use a fire extinguisher on the guy to make it stop.
For the second time in Youichi’s life, he wouldn’t be able to fight his way out of this feeling.
~~XxX~~
“I guess you guys didn’t need backup.” Tetsu-san, the chief of Seidou’s station, commented from his seat, looking over his equipment and making sure everything was in check. They had arrived back at the station after all the necessary procedures, making sure the entire building was clear of smoke and was safe again to be entered. However, just in case, Youichi recommended that Ryosuke should head home for the day and come back the next day when he was sure there wouldn’t be any residue CO2 in the air.
Of course, Youichi’s heart was having its own seizure the minute he had to face Ryosuke again, but he was able to keep it under control.
“Well, I definitely didn’t.” Miyuki sang out, patting Youichi’s shoulder roughly with a Cheshire smile. “But our dear old Mochi needed back up in the love department.”
“Shut up, you freaking—” Youichi bristled, quickly swiping Miyuki’s hand off his shoulder and rubbing his ears to get rid of the blush that was building up there. “There was no love department. We were just handling a fire!”
“Yeah, and you were also handling Ryosuke-san with the way you called him pretty~”
“You called the victim of a fire pretty?” Tetsu asked, looking over at Youichi with an arched brow. Youichi groaned and buried his face in his hands.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It was adorable.” Miyuki added. Youichi shot him a deadpanned look.
“I’m about to hit you with a fire extinguisher.”
“Kinky~!”
Jun, Tetsu’s right hand man and husband, snorted walking over, carrying oxygen masks to the table for inspection.
“Oi, Kuramochi.” He laid a heavy hand on Youichi’s shoulder, “It’s easy to get caught up in love but don’t let that affect your job.”
“I’m not in love!” Youichi defended loudly, ignoring Miyuki’s annoying cackle. “I was just—It was a fact! I was only stating a fact!”
“You were stating the fact that the victim of a fire was pretty because it’s a fact?” Tetsu reiterated back to Youichi making him realize just how stupid his excuse sounded. Jun sighed heavily and Youichi prepared for the completely disillusioned advice that he was about to receive without a choice on the matter.
“Youichi! You have to take responsibility for his actions! If you want to get your honey’s heart, then be a man and say your feelings out right! A fish can’t be a fish without the proper bait!”
Youichi wanted to die. The embarrassingly long silence that occurred after Jun’s bold statement was deafening. It didn’t seem to deter Jun, however. He stood tall and proud, his chest jutted out as if he had just said something that would be memorialized on a stone statue for the world to see.
“No, Jun-san, that made no sense. Also that’s sexual harassment in some cases.”
Leave it to Miyuki to state exactly what he was thinking to his senpai.
Youichi ignored the chaos that erupted after, choosing to help Tetsu with cleaning the equipment. That should keep his mind off of that pretty bookstore owner. Maybe he’ll go over on his day off and say hi? Check up on him?
It was rather strange that he initially refused Youichi’s assistance. It felt like Ryosuke had a lot of animosity towards both the fire as well as the firefighters that came onto the scene. Youichi just couldn’t figure out why? Firefighters were there to help people. And Ryosuke was obviously in dire need of help. He couldn’t even figure out how to work the fire extinguisher. So why was he so fearless? It just didn’t make any sense. Youichi, even as a firefighter, still was afraid of the fire. There was still that fear that festered from when he was young and lingered in his bones and the slightest smell of that musky, heady scent of smoke. After all those years he found a way to feel excited to face such a danger. Those silent killers, those quiet raging scorching murderers, they had begun to become a part of Youichi’s life so at some point, he had gotten eager to put out the next fire—the next danger.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid.
So why wasn’t Ryosuke? Youichi was going to learn more about that man out of curiosity and not because he thought Ryosuke was pretty. And definitely not because of that feeling that constricted around his lungs and made it harder to breathe than the fumes Youichi was forced to inhale daily.
~~XxX~~
Ryosuke had spent most of his life reading. Whether it be the label on the milk carton or a riveting tale involving two lovers from Verona, Ryosuke was never seen with his nose turned away from a page with ink coated letters. It was easier than dealing with actual social settings. People never truly understood his banter, even at a young age. Whenever his classmates were learning how to read picture books, he had already gone and read The Catcher and the Rye for fun. Then he moved onto intense Japanese Literature and that took over the remaining motivation he had to start a social life. While kids were playing tag outside, making fart jokes, and struggling to pass their reading level, Ryosuke had his nose buried in a book, enjoying the company those inky strands that laced the pages gave him.
Of course, those fuckers hated the fact that Ryosuke could read at a higher level than them and like every other cliché he’s read, he became the subject of bullying. Or well, he had been until he decided to shove his finished book down the throat of one asshole kid.
Yes, he realized that he’s never really had any chill, so to speak.
He never really cared about what others thought about his overarching love for worn out pages. It never really affected him, and his parents enjoyed indulging his tastes. They took him to the local library at the end of every week and he was allowed to pick out whatever book he wanted. It was something small, a routine built just for him, full of serenity and fluid listlessness that he enjoyed. He would bring his younger brother with him, watch as Haruichi stumbled shyly and picked a book that he would think he liked and had Ryosuke read it to him. It was nice. It was something he loved about his family—small but kind. They were happy.
Just like a good book, however, that story had come to an end. Unlike a good book, it ended horribly, abruptly, with no warning and no remorse for the onlookers. Ryosuke had to watch as his home burned down to the ground along with all those fond memories.
The firefighters, the ones Ryosuke had read about, could only give him and the sobbing Haruichi a look of pity. They couldn’t do anything more for them even though it was their job.
Ryosuke and Haruichi had lived with a relative after that. It was silent and normal, but the laughter was gone and all Ryosuke could do was wait until he was eighteen and open up the bookstore of his dreams. During that time growing, that animosity that festered up inside of him in regard to firefighters and the first responders had dwindled down to just a minor annoyance. Ryosuke understood that it really was out of their control and what happened was just a tragic accident.
He still couldn’t help the small displeasure that would creep up his stomach at the sight of those meat-head high school dropouts, though.
When Ryosuke had finally turned eighteen, with all of his saved up money and his parent’s will at hand, he moved out alongside Haruichi and was able to open up his dream store. Usually book store’s don’t do very well monetary wise. They’re seen as aesthetic and some may visit them once or twice, but when technology allows for information to be accessed with a swipe of a thumb, bookstores seem rather redundant.
But Ryosuke had a business degree (from an online college) and the personality of a demon so he was going to run on pure spite even if it killed him.
Which is why he incorporated many other aspects into his bookstore, like a corner cafe a mini fridge, a lounge where people can sit and enjoy their books and some board games just to mix it up a little. People came into study, left tips, indulged in some café items, and then scoured the shelves for a book that they think they would enjoy.
Overall, he became known around the neighborhood as the owner of Komi-Café & Books. Or KCB for short. He still has no idea who came up with the acronym.
Haruichi would help out as much as he could but Ryosuke couldn’t blame him for being busy. His younger brother had gotten a scholarship to attend the local university which meant that, although he would be commuting from Ryosuke’s apartment, he would be busier than ever in order to keep the scholarship.
Knowing that Ryosuke would need some extra help around the store, Haruichi had invited his friend, Sawamura Eijun, to work part time as the barista manning the counter that was located in the left corner of the store beside the lounge. Eijun was loud and determined. His presence was refreshing and magnetizing, bringing more customers in for his approachable nature. It was nice because Ryosuke didn’t have to put up that front anymore. He could just focus on the part of his store he truly did love, the literature. Plus, the kid could actually bake so the stale bakery items Ryosuke would receive from the cheap contractor that he was partnered with were officially off the menu.
Ryosuke was content. He was back into a stable mental place and the most he had to worry about were some bills, but he was a pro at sorting all the monetary issues out so it wasn’t something he would stress over for long.
He was happy.
Then some teenage dirtbags decided it would be comedy-fucking-genius to light a book on fire, hoping for it to spread, but Ryosuke was quicker. He was able to scare them off and the only damage was the one, tattered, gift of literature that no one else had appreciated—sitting alone on the top of the shelf, collecting dust in hopes that someone would pick it up and take it home.
God, this wasn’t a pet shelter.
Ryosuke had the situation perfectly handled. Staring the fire down, the bane of his existence, reminded him of that familiar rage he had bottled up from before, but he was going to ignore it in order to get the fire under control. If only he could figure out how to work the stupid extinguisher.
When the fire department was notified, Ryosuke felt his irritation boil over and snap at whichever poor unsuspecting idiot decided to walk through the door first.
The poor unsuspecting idiot who was a fireman with biceps larger than his own head.
Holy shit.
Ryosuke, during his inner panicking was also having a war within himself. Should he be annoyed with the firefighter who just barged into his life uninvited or continue staring at those beefy arms and hope the actual fire goes away? Maybe, he’ll do both. Who the fuck is gonna stop him?
Once the entire situation was settled, and Ryosuke was pondering over the compliment that really cute wonder boy had blurted out awkwardly after heading home, Haruichi had rushed over concerned out of his damn mind.
“Nii-san!” the younger yelled, bursting through the door and looking over Ryosuke from where he was standing by the door. “Are you okay?! The neighbors said—there was a fire?!”
“Calm down, you’re too loud, Haruichi.” Ryosuke sighed, putting down his—yes, he knows he’s being repetitive—book. “It was just a small fire and I had it under control.”
“They told me the paramedics and firefighters were on the scene!”
Fucking Kyou-san. Couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut, the old coot.
“Haruichi they just made it a bigger deal then it actually was,” Ryosuke rolled his eyes underneath his lids. “I wasn’t hurt and the worst in damages we got was one book—” Rest in peace.
“Well…” Haruichi slumped, relaxed and chest rising and falling steadily. “If you’re sure…”
“I am.”
“Eijun-kun was really worried, he wanted to come here himself.” Haruichi added, walking to the kitchen. Ryosuke ignored the warmth that came with those words. “I told him to wait until I call.”
“Probably better,” Ryosuke hummed. “Wouldn’t want to waste his time coming here. Lord knows the boy needs all of his attention to be aimed at his assignments—he can barely get through one reading.”
Haruichi chuckled in response and a silence fell between the two. Ryosuke would have found it normal if it wasn’t for the fact that there was a fire. There had been a fire and Ryosuke was involved.
“I’m okay, Haruichi.” Ryosuke could see the way his younger brother’s hands trembled around the glass he was holding. “I’m fine.”
“Right…”
Ryosuke frowned but said nothing, knowing that Haruichi wouldn’t be able to process any of his consolation right now. Instead, he rose to his feet, striding over to where Haruichi was slouched over the small kitchen island, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. To remind him that he was tangible, that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon, that he was here.
When Ryosuke saw Haruichi’s lips twitch up, he let his hand fall and grab the glass out of Haruichi’s grip, letting the refreshing taste of chilled water slide down his throat and ease some of that irritation that had festered from the smoke.
“…Nii-san, that was for me.”
“Be a good little brother and shut up, Haruichi.” Ryosuke placed the empty glass down. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I just went through a traumatic experience so I would like my comfort movie to be put on alongside my comfort food and my comfort blanket.”
“You don’t look like you need comfort.” Haruichi mentioned, moving around the island to set up Ryosuke’s little corner of…comfort.
“You’re right,” Ryosuke called out, moving back to the couch where he had been before and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “I just like bossing you around. Now put on Captain America.”
Haruichi chuckled from the hallway. When they had gotten situated, lights off with a pint of ice cream on the table and popcorn right next to it, Ryosuke couldn’t help but think Chris Evan’s biceps looked a lot like that firefighter that called him pretty like an idiot.
He reached for the ice cream.
~~XxX~~
“Onii-san!”
Ryosuke sighed heavily and placed the weighted box of books down, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. “Eijun. What did I say about screaming inside of the store—” He cut himself off once he turned around to see Eijun with large tears pricking the corner of his eyes, lips quivering, and shoulders bunched up from where he stood at the entrance.
Oh no.
“You—!” Eijun heaved, the wet droplets finally tipping over and rolling down his cherubic cheeks. Ryosuke felt like he had just kicked a puppy. “You almost died!”
Ryosuke sent an apologetic smile towards the concerned couple that were lounging with their books before addressing Eijun. “I didn’t almost die, Eijun. Don’t be dramatic.”
“B-But—!” Oh god, he was whimpering. “You—and the fire—and the store—and Kyou-san said—”
“Fucking Kyou-san,” Ryosuke cursed under his breath and gripped Eijun’s arm before dragging him behind the counter for some privacy. “Eijun. I’m fine. It was a small, mini-baby fire. Okay? I’m fine.”
Eijun nodded pathetically, reaching up with his sleeve to wipe his cheeks. “But why didn’t you use the fire extinguisher then?! You didn’t know how to use it, did you? I told you to take that class with me!”
“Why the fuck would I—?” Ryosuke groaned pinching the bridge of his nose, praying to whatever superior being was up there to save him from this conversation. “Eijun. Just…Go be useful and stand behind the café counter.”
“Yes sir!” Like a rubber band, Eijun seemed to have bounced back to his sunny disposition and skipped over to his post, grinning with determination with each step.
Ryosuke felt like he had just been hit with four different trucks at the same fucking time. That’s what it was like talking to Eijun. Even if he was a little adorable, Ryosuke wasn’t weak to those puppy dog eyes. He had Haruichi after all.
Speaking of puppy dog eyes, Wonder Boy had some interesting ones. He did a pretty good impression of a kicked puppy the minute he had to leave the store and Ryosuke along with it. Ryosuke wasn’t blind. He understood the signs to initial attraction. The lingering gazes, the reddening skin, the stuttered words—all signs of the beginnings of a crush and Wonder boy was a prime time example of someone who was head over heels. Over Ryosuke of all people.
A terrible decision, really.
Ryosuke wasn’t the type of person to really do relationships. They always required a level of attention that he just did not have in his hands at the moment. What he did have in his hands, however, was a shit ton of baggage. Baggage that he couldn’t really carry into a relationship. No, this baggage had him chained and rooted into a pile of quicksand that sucked him in until he could barely keep his nose up to breathe in fresh air.
Yeah, that baggage was a heavy motherfucker.
There was nothing in this world, especially a relationship, that would pull him out of that shit fest. He couldn’t subject another person and drag them down with them, drowning and spluttering for air while, suffocating them with his abandonment issues.
He was fine, in his little bubble, focused, happy, and content with his life. Besides, there was no reason to really worry about Wonder Boy. Not really. It could have just been a physical attraction. He probably won’t attempt to reach out to Ryosuke in an attempt to start a cheesy Hallmark level romance. And if he did, then Ryosuke will firmly shut it down. He’ll nip the fire in its bud, pun intended, and do the job better than that firefighter ever could.
Ryosuke just has to remember to look above those muscular pecs and arms. Those extremely distracting, muscular arms and pecs. Mm…Muscles.
No. Ryosuke vigorously shook his head. No! What the fuck is wrong with his gay ass? He sees one hot man who shows the slightest interest in him and suddenly he’s acting like some sort of wannabe Sandra Bullock in The Proposal. Jesus Christ, that woman was stubborn.
He was starting to see the similarities.
The sound of the door creaking open along with the little chime of the bell hanging from the top pulled Ryosuke from his train(s) of thought. He turned to face whoever walked into the store, ready to greet them with as much hospitality he could manage with his cold dead heart, but once he caught sight of who it was, his tense smile fell into an irritated frown. With a tut, his posture fell, and he leaned his head on his fest while leaning over the counter.
Lo-and-behold. Wonder Boy. Speak of the devil and all that superstitious bullshit.
“Wonder boy,” Ryosuke greeted briskly, nodding at Wonder boy’s annoyingly handsome spectacled friend. “And Wonder boy’s friend.”
“Yeah, hi.” Glasses man replied. “Miyuki Kazuya. A pleasure—you got any coffee?”
Ryosuke huffed and jabbed his thumb to where Eijun was stationed, already sending his mental prayers to the boy for having to deal with this hot mess. “We have a small corner cafe in, well, the corner.”
“Apt.” Miyuki shrugged, patting his handsome friend’s shoulder before walking over to the corner.
Ryosuke took the moment of silence that followed after to appreciate the shirt that stretched around the man’s muscles in a very voluptuous way. What the hell did this guy lift in his free time? Busses?
“Uh, no it’s just the usual reps that you could find in a gym.”
Fuck, he said that out loud.
Ryosuke cleared his throat. “It was rhetorical.”
The man smiled, a fond quirk finding its way on his lips. “More like accidental. Oh, uh, I’m Kuramochi. Kuramochi Youichi.”
“Nice to meet you, officially, Wonder Boy.” Ryosuke responded, hating the fact that the name had already found itself ingrained in his mind like a thread to cloth. “A pleasure.”
“A pleasure?” Kuramochi smiled as he walked closer to the counter, stepping right up to it so that the only thing dividing him from Ryosuke was the wooden plank in front of them. “You didn’t seem to think so when I was, you know, saving your life.”
Humble was definitely not in this guy’s repertoire. “Adrenaline makes me catty.”
“That’s definitely one way to put it.”
“And saving my life?” Ryosuke laughed dryly. “Don’t you think you’re being a tad bit overdramatic? The only thing that caught on fire was a book.”
“Uh yea,” Kuramochi’s smile grew wider. “That you couldn’t put out.”
This guy was just as frustrating as he was hot. Where did he get off attempting to tease Ryosuke like that? Also, fuck him for being able to banter without being a complete dickhead. Why was that hot? Why was he continuously racking up points on Ryosuke’s roster of Men-Ryosuke-Should-Totally-Date? He was edging close to Captain America. Very close. That was dangerous
“Okay, your cute little tactic of being a shit head isn’t going to work on me.” Ryosuke warned, tapping his fingers on the glass covering of the counter. “Better think of a better flirting tactic.”
“You think I’m cute?” Kuramochi said sheepishly.
Ryosuke wanted to die.
“I’m literally going to stuff the Britannica Encyclopedia down your throat.”
“I’m sorry that took the joke too far.” Kuramochi chuckled, in a terribly attractive and slightly adorable way. His nose even scrunched up a little with the smile. “I just wanted to check up on you.”
Ryosuke clutched at the fabric of his pants for a second before letting go. “I’m fine, like I’ve stressed multiple times. I’m not as delicate as you may think, Wonder Boy.”
“Trust me, I know.” Kuramochi tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on it for a distractingly long second. “You definitely did not come off as…fragile.”
“Is there a point to this conversation?” Ryosuke huffed, attempting to cover up how breathless he was feeling. “Unless you’re here to buy a book or grab a cup of coffee, I seriously doubt we should be entertaining each other longer than this.”
Harsh? Sure. Necessary? Absolutely. He had already stated he wasn’t ready for a relationship. There was nothing in this world that could possibly change his mind.
“I was just—” Kuramochi coughed into his fist, undeterred by Ryosuke’s cruel façade. “To be honest I was just hoping to see you.”
Oh. Honesty. That’s a new approach. Ryosuke swallowed the lump in his throat down, his cheeks beginning to feel warm underneath Kuramochi’s attentive gaze. His heart began to beat a bit faster than normal, blood rushing to his face, and his palms sweating, clamming them up.
How did he get under Ryosuke’s skin so fast?!
“Well—” Ryosuke met Kuramochi’s emerald stare. “You saw me.”
Kuramochi had his own pink tint to his cheeks, embarrassed and slightly off his footing but a shaky grin still on his chiseled face. The awkward stance was oddly breathtaking. Not in the way Ryosuke would find they spoke about in movies or books but rather in the slow, almost painful way. The air didn’t dissipate from his lungs in one swoop. It trickled out from his nostrils and mouth slowly, dangerously. He couldn’t inhale anything back, not while he was still in the middle of letting the air go. It was like drowning.
“Yeah I—I see you.” Kuramochi stumbled over his words for a bit. “Can I…Can I keep seeing you?”
If this guy wouldn’t stop being so endearing, Ryosuke might just fuck around and close up shop forever just to avoid whatever…this was.
Ryosuke didn’t want to say yes but he didn’t exactly want to say no either. Why the fuck was this guy chasing after him anyway? Ryosuke was a hot fucking mess the last time he checked and he sure as hell would self-destruct before a stable relationship could even dream of taking place in his life, so the intelligent thing was to stop this before it went any further. His brain was right. He should listen to his brain.
“I can’t stop you from doing that, Wonder Boy. You’re free to do whatever you want.”
Why. Why. Why the fuck did he say that? Why didn’t he just say “No, fuck off” as per the usual M.O? Why couldn’t he bring himself to be cruel and aloof around this stupid jacked fire fighter who had a smile that could light up a room and a dorky laugh that was contagious?
Okay, so it seems he answered his own question. But his own attraction aside, Ryosuke cannot, will not, and should not entertain this sort of behavior!
“Great!” Kuramochi lit up, a small laugh falling from his lips and a relieved sigh following in suit. “I—That’s great! I’ll show up tomorrow!”
“Sure.”
“And the day after!”
“Okay.”
“And—”
“Jesus Christ, Wonder Boy, I get it.” Ryosuke couldn’t fight the twitch that tugged at the corner of his lips. The smile forming on his face was small but apparent. Unfortunately. “Now are you actually here to buy a book? Because we are, after all, a bookstore.”
“Oh, uh-right!” Kuramochi fumbled around, picking a random book from the counter stack and placing it next to the register. “That’s fine!”
Ryosuke glanced at the title with a hum of amusement. “10 Ways to Reach Euphoria. Interesting choice, Wonder Boy. Having problems down there perhaps?”
Kuramochi instantly flushed, turning red to the roots of his hair. He could barely get a word out. Almost as if he was trying to gather up the braincells to answer Ryosuke with a witty remark but there really wasn’t anything he could do to save himself, not really. So instead, he let out a sigh of surrender, taking out his wallet sluggishly and paying for the extremely raunchy book.
Ryosuke couldn’t help but let a laugh tinkle out of his throat while he checked out the item, filling the air with his airy giggle. The sound only caused a darker shade of red to stain Kuramochi’s face as he grabbed the plastic bag that covered the book and snapped his head over to where Miyuki was, interestingly enough, flirting with Sawamura.
“Oi, Miyuki we’re leaving!”
“What—why, it’s our day off—”
“Leaving!”
“Jesus-fine!” Miyuki rolled his eyes, flashing a saucy wink over his shoulder at a flustered Eijun and following Kuramochi out.
Before Kuramochi could walk all the way out, however, Ryosuke wanted to get the last word in. Not that there was a competition or anything. But just for his own satisfaction.
“Hey Wonder Boy.”
Kuramochi turned around.
Ryosuke smiled. “Try not to be too caught up with Euphoria. I wouldn’t want you to miss seeing me like you said you would.”
Kuramochi stiffened, face once again doing an amazing impression of a tomato, before he let out another nervous laugh and walked out the door.
Oh god he was cute. He was so cute. Ryosuke couldn’t help but tease him. A himbo who knew how to keep up with Ryosuke’s wit but not overtake him. Did God just hand him his type on a silver platter? What the hell did he do to deserve this? Then again, he had accumulated the world’s most insane amount of good karma considering his entire tragic back story arc. But still. This was too good to be true.
“Ugh! The four-eyed jerk! He was fifty cents off!”
“That’s coming out of your paycheck, Sawamura.”
“Onii-san, no fair!”
It’s fine, Ryosuke does not care one bit that this menace of a man will be seeing him as often as his breaks allowed. Ryosuke didn’t care one bit. It wouldn’t change anything. Nope. He was going to stay single as single can be.
~~XxX~~
“Just ask him out.”
“You make it sound so easy.” Kuramochi snorted.
Kazuya took a slow sip of his black coffee, reveling in the bitter taste and allowing the espresso to jump start his cold black heart so he could somehow gather enough energy to deal with his best friend’s bullshit.
Kuramochi Youichi has known Kazuya since they were in high school. The two of them bonded over their similar terrible personalities and have been inseparable ever since. The talk of feelings between the two has always been a touchy subject that could easily be avoided with just a shared sub sandwich and a showing of 21 Jump Street.
Yes, they exuded testosterone in every step they took. It wasn’t healthy no, but it sure as fuck did the job for avoiding any awkward conversations.
Until now, of course.
Kazuya is going to be fucking damned if he’ll allow whatever man pride he had to get in the way of Kuramochi getting himself a boyfriend. He has never seen ‘Mochi so hung up over another person like this before. If ‘Mochi let this opportunity slip by him, Kazuya was sure he’d regret it.
That, and, if Kuramochi got a boyfriend that meant new blackmail material for him. There was no fucking way he was going to let that slide. Plus, whenever Kuramochi visited that little bookstore, that cute barista always seemed to be working as well. If Kuramochi fucks up in getting a boyfriend, then Kazuya fucks up in getting a boyfriend and he was not going to let that asshole ruin it for him too.
“Dude, you have been visiting Ryosuke-san at his job for the past three weeks. This is frankly getting pathetic.” Kazuya stressed, placing his forearm on the table of the booth they were in. Kuramochi groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palm, attempting to ease whatever make believe tension he was feeling from the stress of asking someone out.
“You don’t think I don’t know that, you asshole? I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to ask him and it’s seriously not easy when he throws sarcastic insults mixed with offhanded compliments! It throws a guy off!”
Kazuya pushed up his glasses. “I thought you liked that about him?”
Kuramochi frowned in confusion. “I do. What’s your point.”
“What’s your point?” Kazuya laughed incredulously. Speaking sense to Kuramochi was like attempting to teach an ostrich not to bury their face two feet in the ground. “Holy shit, you should be a fucking politician with the way you change the subject so quick, seriously.”
“Fuck capitalism—”
“What does that have to do with—okay, see? You’re doing it again.” Kazuya pointed out, aiming a soggy fry at Kuramochi’s face only to miss as the man opened his mouth to catch it. He only looked smug for a second before remembering that Kazuya was completely in the right in this case.
Kuramochi looked rightfully chastised, as he should, and took to looking out the window of the diner instead of facing Kazuya. “Look, it’s a process okay? I don’t want to push him. He’s got all these walls and I don’t want to scare ‘im off.”
“Bullshit.” Kazuya rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee. “You just don’t want to get rejected.”
“Okay and is that so bad?!”
“Oh, ‘Mochi! Who knew you would have such a feeble heart.” Kazuya tutted mockingly, shaking his head and ignoring the low annoyed growls coming from his friend. He’s spent enough time to know ‘Mochi was only half bite all bark. “Look dude. You need to grow a pair of balls, preferably nonflammable ones, and ask him out. If you let fear of rejection of all things stop you, you won’t get anything. Hell, you probably wouldn’t have even become a fire fighter of all things.”
“This is different.” Kuramochi pursed his lips, eyebrows twitching in distress. “This is…new. And my mom won’t shut up about me getting married so that’s another thing.”
“Kuramochi-san is such a trooper.” Kazuya smirked. “At this rate, her son isn’t going to get married until he’s well over the age of fifty.”
“I hate you, you know that right?”
“You remind me every day, beloved.”
Kuramochi let out a low groan in pain. “I’ll…attempt to ask him out.”
“Perfect—”
“Once you ask that barista out.” Kuramochi’s pained expression quickly ricocheted into one of satisfied victory as if he thought he won against Kazuya. Kazuya may be a bit awkward in the love department and he may flirt like a third grade kid with a crush, but he there was no way in hell he was going to let Kuramochi get away with being a smug asshole about it.
“Fine.” Kazuya snorted, holding up his phone. “While you were busy s-s-stuttering over your words with pretty in pink, I actually made progress with Bakamura.”
Kazuya tried not to smile viciously at the apprehensive look on Kuramochi’s face while he typed out his message.
Hey, Sawamura. Want to hang out this weekend?
Kazuya barely had time to think as his body moved out of spite, pressing send and showing Kuramochi the proof. He hid his own anxiousness, more or less proud of the fact that he was able to prove his friend wrong.
“Okay, okay!” Kuramochi hissed. “I’ll ask him out.”
Kazuya was going to reply with something encouraging, even for him, however, his phone chimed with Eijun’s message back and he quickly looked over.
Fine! But you better be on time, Miyuki Kazuya! I mean it! ⋌༼ •̀ ⌂ •́ ༽⋋
Kazuya snorted and looked over at Kuramochi with the most shit-eating grin he has ever mustered up before in his life.
“Yeah, you’re my bitch.”
Oh, how Kazuya loved being right.
~~XxX~~
“That’s definitely not how you hold a fire extinguisher.”
Please let someone put Ryosuke to rest. Why on earth did God find it amusing to parade around this infuriatingly immature hot fireman around his bookstore? He wasn’t ready to face his attraction and he sure as hell wasn’t going to keep humoring Kuramochi. Ryosuke wasn’t dumb. He completely understood why the green haired Adonis kept strutting around his quaint little book shop even though there had been no other alarms or fires. He had no time to entertain a relationship. Like he has said multiple times.
Yeah, if he keeps saying it, it might come true.
Ryosuke let out a heavy sigh and plastered on his customer service smile, placing the heavy metal canister on top of the counter. He pushed aside a few stray books, haphazardly organizing them so that he came off as less of a mess to the one guy he was trying to both impress and push away. God, Kuramochi looked good in a uniform.
“Kuramochi,” Ryosuke greeted stiffly. “You know, with how often you come by, I’d guess you were actually literate.”
Kuramochi let out a nervous laugh, avoiding the question entirely—just like Ryosuke knew he would—and pointed towards the shiny red canister that was giving Ryosuke a hell of a time.
“I’m guessing you want to be more prepared next time?”
“Look at you, Sherlock.” Ryosuke hummed, shoving the offending item further away from him. The fire extinguisher rattled, about to tip over but Kuramochi was faster, using his reflexes to catch the extinguisher with one hand.
How is he holding it with one hand? Just how strong is this guy?
Ryosuke cleared his throat. “I can’t get the thing to work. It’s broken,”
“Kyaha!” Kuramochi’s unique laugh should have grated his nerves. But really, he just wanted to hear more. “Come around and I’ll show you what to do.”
Ryosuke’s lips thinned, but out of pure curiosity, and possibly the fact that he would be a little closer to the man before him, he walked over. Once he was next to him, Kuramochi placed the extinguisher back into Ryosuke’s arms. The weight of it had his arms droop a bit before he had a stable hold. Kuramochi surprised both of them though, when he stepped behind Ryosuke, his strong chest pressed up against Ryosuke’s back. The feeling seeped through the thin material of his shirt and Ryosuke cursed his heart out for beating so fast.
“Okay, so you pull the pin, here—” Kuramochi guided Ryosuke’s hands with his own, the warm calloused palm enveloping his slightly smaller ones, making him feel safe. “And after that, you want to aim the nozzle low, at the base of the fire. That way you get rid of it quicker.”
Usually anyone that touched Ryosuke without his permission would get a swift kick to where the sun never shines and then get the verbal beating of a lifetime. But Kuramochi never made him felt uncomfortable. His hands never wandered where they weren’t supposed to, and he was genuinely attempting to show Ryosuke how to work the damn thing.
If Ryosuke wasn’t so distracted by Kuramochi’s forearms, he was sure he’d be paying attention.
“Ryosuke-san.”
“Huh—what?” Ryosuke blinked out of his haze, tilting his head up so he was staring directly up at Kuramochi.
“You know, fire safety is pretty important.” Kuramochi stated smugly. “I wouldn’t space out if I were you.”
“Oh stuff it, Wonder Boy.”
“Kyahaha!”
Ryosuke couldn’t stay mad for long. Not with a laugh like that. Not with a man like that. God Kuramochi made everything so difficult for Ryosuke. Why was he so…understanding? Perfect? Charming? Funny?
Did he mention perfect?
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You already did, big guy.” Ryosuke murmured, pulling himself away reluctantly from Kuramochi’s gentle hold. “Kind of redundant to ask.”
“I—How come you held…animosity when I came in that day we met?” Kuramochi asked slowly, as if he was speaking to a spooked animal. Ryosuke should have been more upset at that but it wasn’t as if the man’s instincts were far off. The question came unwarranted, unannounced, and had him already breaking out into cold sweats at the memory of it all. He should tell Kuramochi to back off, that it was none of his business.
But a part of him felt that he would feel more relieved if he could just tell somebody.
Before he could make a sound decision, his tongue began to form words on its own. “My parents died in a fire. The first responders couldn’t save them in time. The fire fighters were a part of it.”
Oh shit, that was really opening a couple of old wounds, huh? Ryosuke pressed his lips together, taking to looking at the tiled floor instead of Kuramochi’s most likely disappointed expression and continued to ramble on, unable to stop now that it started. “Now I have this weird emotional baggage that likes to torment me and make me think that all fire fighters are bad which is clearly not true, and my therapist has specifically told me to handle my issues better but—"
“It’s not…It’s not weird emotional baggage.” Kuramochi’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced up at the man. Kuramochi’s face was serious, stern and calloused. One that would probably scare off children if they didn’t know any better.
Ryosuke knew, though. He understood what that look meant. He was concerned. He was appreciative. He was awkward, and nervous, and wanted to approach Ryosuke in a way that wouldn’t hurt him.
Ryosuke felt his heart drum against his chest harder at the sight.
“It’s not.” Kuramochi assured. “It was something bad that happened and the people you expected to help couldn’t do as much as you thought. That hurts and it’s painful. You’re allowed to feel that way. You keep…pushing yourself off as cruel and unkind when you’re clearly not. You’re not, Ryo-san.”
Ryosuke wanted to kiss him.
Kuramochi smiled. “I—I seriously would love to kiss you right now. But I think I have to take you out on a date first.”
It took a second to realize that Ryosuke had said that out loud and instantly he wanted to jump off a cliff. Of course Ryosuke was the one to humiliate himself to this point. “Okay, there’s no point in living now. Goodbye, Wonder Boy. I’m leaving the country.”
“Kyahahaha! Who knew you could be so dramatic!” Kuramochi cackled and Ryosuke had half the right mind to kick his ass out. “Well, since you beat me to it. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks now.”
“Then do it already, pussy.”
Kuramochi snorted. “You’re so romantic. At least let me take you out on a date first.”
Ryosuke thought it was sweet that Kuramochi was being so attentive. But Kuramochi deserved a reward for how hard he’s worked to get here, to get past Ryosuke’s defensive walls. After all those weeks of mind games Ryosuke’s put him through, weeks of second guessing himself, and weeks of Haruichi berating Ryosuke, telling him to ‘hurry up and put You-san out of his misery’, Kuramochi finally was able to get Ryosuke right where he wanted him.
In his arms.
Guess fire extinguishers were good for something.
“Kiss first, Wonder Boy.” Ryosuke whispered, trailing his hand up the strong, hardened muscles of Kuramochi’s chest before placing it right at the side of his neck. “A date can come right after.”
Kuramochi blushed, like he always did, to the tips of his ears, but instead of an unsure, almost hesitant, look, his eyes were lidded shaded desire and his lips were parted readying themselves for Ryosuke’s own.
They stood still for only a second longer before they collided, lips meeting in the middle and moving in soft gentle waves. Ryosuke had initially wanted to go fast and rough, to taste what he had been depriving himself from for ages. However Kuramochi wouldn’t change the pace, choosing to memorize Ryosuke’s skin with his own. The soft supple movements of their mouths with tender smacks filling the air sent embers racing down Ryosuke’s spine, pooling at his gut and stirring the fire that had been building ever since he met Ryosuke the day of the fire.
When they broke apart, small puffs of air being shared between them as they regained their breath, Ryosuke couldn’t help but think how ironic it was that a firefighter of all people would be the one to alight his life into powerful flames once more.
“Go on a date with me, Ryo-san.”
“You sure know how to treat a man, Wonder boy. Pick me up at seven.”