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Tamaki rested his head against the passenger’s seat window of the car. He and Mirio were driving back to the dorms after some late-night training, which recently became a regular habit for the two. He was gazing out of the window, watching as the buildings in the distance move by and looking at the ways that the stars were painting the sky. Tamaki thought it all blended together perfectly and he adored the view. He let a feeling of calmness fall over him for a brief moment.
Tamaki was rarely calm, he never had the chance to be. His life was filled with different forms of stress and anxiety. Worrying about all sorts of different things had always plagued his mind. As he was gazing out the window, he started overthinking once again, feeling his stomach turn into a knot and his breathing become unsteady as his mind went back into those thought loops of fear and judgment and failing an-
Breathe.
He took a deep breath in and looked back out at the stars. Calmness would always escape his grasp just when he thought he was able to catch it for once. He always thinks to himself after this happens that he should have known better, but he still always tries too hard to grab on when he thinks he may finally feel somewhat calm. He never had anything that made him calm, everything could become a source of stress for him. Even Mirio, his best friend, who may have been the closest thing to that, could still easily become another point of worry for Tamaki.
He glanced over at Mirio, whose eyes were glued to the road. He looked like he was glowing with the way the dim street lighting illuminated the inside of the car. He was like a godly figure, his body was as perfect as a statue carved out of marble. Every muscle in his body was clear evidence of how hard he worked. Every time Tamaki looked at Mirio, he grew to appreciate how hard Mirio worked a little more. But, there was one thing he never understood about Mirio: why was he friends with someone like Tamaki?
Tamaki had always felt utterly worthless compared to Mirio. Everyone adored Mirio, what wasn’t to love about him? He was hard-working, charismatic, and the best of the best, but Tamaki was the exact opposite. He was a wreck, and he felt like he was nothing in comparison to Mirio. Tamaki had so much appreciation for him. Every single thing about him. He loved every single thing about Mirio.
Tamaki didn’t know exactly when he fell in love with Mirio. Maybe he had been in love with him throughout all the years that they knew each other. But as time passed, he realized that this isn’t the way you feel about a friend. You don’t feel the same ache in your heart for someone that’s just a friend like this. He loved Mirio so much, but it was the type of love he knew Mirio wouldn’t reciprocate. He started to feel as if his stomach became a pit as he thought about Mirio more. He felt his hands start trembling, and he clutched onto the fabric of his pants, trying to force the trembling to stop.
A tear rolled down Tamaki’s cheek.
Shit.
He didn’t even realize how worked up he got over thinking about how he felt about Mirio. He wiped away the single tear, but his eyes were still watering. His mind wouldn’t let him stop thinking about how he felt like he could never compare to Mirio, and how he knew he would never be loved by him. Tamaki couldn’t control his shaking now, no matter how hard his hands gripped onto the fabric of his pants, it wouldn’t stop. He pointed his head down at the ground to hide his face from Mirio, not wanting him to notice how he was feeling.
“God Tamaki, you fucking idiot. Breathe,” Tamaki muttered to himself under his breath.
“What was that?” Mirio replied. Tamaki leaped up a little in his seat, and his face was red from the embarrassment of not realizing he was speaking out loud.
“Oh… s-sorry I was j-just t-talking to myself.” He struggled to get the words out, fearful of what Mirio could have been thinking. Mirio glanced over at Tamaki, noticing how anxious he suddenly seemed.
“Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Y-yeah… got it,” Tamaki replied. Tamaki felt like they were sitting in an unbearable silence after that, the kind of silence that felt like it was screaming. They sat in that silence for a while longer, while Tamaki fidgeted with his fingers, still feeling half scared to death by what had just happened. It was interrupted when the low gas tank light had lit up on the dashboard.
“Okay, we’re gonna have to stop and get gas, sorry” Mirio blurted out. Tamaki knew it wasn’t intentional, but Mirio breaking the silence made the environment feel a little less tense. At least for a second, that unbearable silence was gone. Tamaki tried to compose himself. He forced himself to raise his head up and he took deep breathes, trying to return his breathing to normal. He felt bad for worrying Mirio at all, Tamaki never wanted to make Mirio feel bad. He wished he could give Mirio the same happiness Mirio gave him.
Tamaki kept looking at the stars as they continued down the road, trying to keep his mind from drifting back to where it was before. He knew deep down that preoccupying his mind with that was pointless. The more he acknowledged it the, worse it would feel. He knew he didn’t have a real reason to be upset about Mirio because they were still best friends, and he couldn't force him to feel the same way. But it was still painful because he also couldn’t force himself to not love Mirio.
After continuing down the road for a while, they pulled up at the gas station. Tamaki had no idea how long it actually took, but it felt like ages. Tamaki wasn't able to keep his mind from drifting back to that place, and he felt sick to his stomach. He had to escape. He told Mirio he had to go inside the gas station and he immediately ran in, searching for a place he could hide. Once he found a bathroom he immediately rushed in, slamming the door behind him and locking it as fast as he could. The bathroom was covered in filth, and normally he would have been cautious of a bathroom like this. But, he didn't care about the grime covering the floor as he fell to his knees and started sobbing. He was completely broken. He couldn't handle pretending he didn’t love Mirio anymore.
Tamaki looked back on the years of memories he had with Mirio, reflecting on all of them. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he was always a hassle for Mirio to deal with, while Mirio could do easily on his own. Why would he choose to have to deal with Tamaki? After all these years he stuck around, and Tamaki could never understand why. But that was part of the problem, he loved Mirio for the fact that he stuck around. He loved Mirio for the fact that he was so kind to Tamaki despite how flawed Tamaki felt. Tamaki knew he couldn’t continue like this, he couldn’t continue keeping things this way. He was beginning to realize how unhealthy it was for him to constantly feel like this and not do anything about it. But no matter how hard he tried, he could never stop feeling that way about Mirio. He knew that at the very least he had to try to be honest with Mirio, but that seemed impossible.
His sobbing wouldn’t stop. No matter how hard he tried to calm down and take a breath, his sobbing couldn’t stop. It was all coming out, every single feeling bottled up was forcing its way out. Eventually, he gave up on trying to calm down. He just let it happen. He felt like he was suffocating as he sobbed, and he was curled up into a ball, rocking back and forth. He had never felt so alone in his life.
Then, there was a knock on the door. His entire body froze.
“Hey, Tamaki… is that you in there? I heard crying. What’s wrong?” The voice was muffled through the door, but it was definitely Mirio. Tamaki was completely silent, but he could hear the pounding of his heartbeat. What was he meant to do right now? He didn’t know, he just sat there, terrified, in complete silence.
“If you don’t say anything I’m gonna come in there… please… I’m just worried about you. You know I care about you right? I’m here for you.” Mirio said, the words coming out more desperate than before, which made Tamaki feel more worried. But, Tamaki was still struggling to find the words to say, all of them scrambled together in his brain and even if he did try to speak, the words felt stuck in his throat.
A few more seconds of silence.
“Okay look, I’m coming in there so just prepare yourself,” Mirio said. Tamaki felt his heart race as he knew he had to try to do something. But even then, Tamaki wasn’t able to get himself off the ground because of how paralyzed he felt in the moment. Mirio had phased through the door to find Tamaki sitting on the ground, curled up, and his face hidden by a mess of indigo hair. It was as if he thought if he curled up tight enough he would disappear. Mirio knelt down on the ground in front of Tamaki, and even though his face was covered, he was still able to notice the tear streaks running down his face through the strands of hair. Tamaki slowly lifted his head up to look at Mirio, but after he saw Mirio looking back at him with a look of concern painted on his face, his eyes darted back to the ground. Mirio reached out his arms, placing both of his hands onto Tamaki’s shoulders and looking at him directly in the eyes.
“Please, tell me what’s wrong. I just want you to feel better. I’ll help in any way I can, I promise.” he said. Mirio was used to having to worry about Tamaki, he never minded it. He knew that Tamaki was amazing and he knew how much potential was in him, and it was worth it to help someone like him, to help him be as bright as he could. But something felt different right now.
“I-it’s f-fine… I d-don’t think you can h-help, okay?” The first words he was finally able to get out, his voice quavering.
“Can you at least tell me what’s wrong? Maybe I can give some advice! Even if I can’t at least you can get it off your chest, right?” Mirio was always so positive and ready to help, and for once, Tamaki wished he wasn’t this way. For once, he wished Mirio wouldn't try to fix this.
“I-I’m not sure i-if that’s a good idea…” Tamaki muttered. Mirio was looking directly at him, but Tamaki still had his gaze shifted to the floor, desperately avoiding looking at him. “I-I just don’t think telling y-you would h-help either of us.” after Tamaki said this, Mirio tightened his grip on Tamaki’s shoulders.
“Come on! You know I’m here for you. How would it not help to at least let someone know how you're feeling? Even if you don’t wanna tell me, at least let me do something for you! I wanna help!” Tamaki felt strange after hearing this, not understanding why Mirio was so persistent.
“...Why do you stick around me, Mirio? Why did you ever talk to me in the first place? It was clear since the day we met that you were better. That you could do better than someone like me. So... why?” Tamaki mumbled.
“Tamaki. Look at me.” Tamaki forcefully shifted his eyes to Mirio’s, feeling dread as he looked into those deep blue eyes. “You’re amazing. You’re who inspires me. I tell you that all the time, so try to remember it, okay? I hate hearing you talk down on yourself all the time. You deserve better than that.” Mirio’s words sounded sincere, but Tamaki found it near impossible to believe them.
Tamaki gulped, still having to force himself to keep eye contact with Mirio. “M-Mirio… I-I think I…” He wasn’t able to get the rest of the words out without his voice trailing off. He wasn’t sure if he should say it, but it already started coming out after all this time.
“Yeah? Come on. It’s okay, I’m here for you.” Mirio reassured Tamaki. Tamaki felt better after hearing that, he was still trembling, but something in him felt ready to say what he wanted to.
“I-I love you…” The words finally came out, although, they were so quiet he wasn't sure if Mirio even heard them. But Mirio heard them clear as day. He pulled Tamaki into a warm embrace, wrapping his arms around Tamaki, holding him tight, letting him know that he was safe. He let one of his hands rest on the back of Tamaki’s head and his were fingers running through the back of his hair. Tamaki felt himself fall deep into Mirio’s embrace as he wrapped his own arms around Mirio’s back, and he let himself lay his head on Mirio’s chest. They were both holding on to each other like they depended on it, and maybe they did depend on it. Maybe this is what they both needed.
“I love you too, Tamaki,” Mirio whispered into Tamaki’s ear. The words were sweet and filled Tamaki with more joy than he could have imagined. He grabbed onto Mirio a little bit tighter after hearing that, wanting to keep him as close as possible. This was heaven. Tamaki didn’t care where they were, Mirio’s arms were heaven. Mirio placed a soft kiss on Tamaki’s forehead, causing Tamaki to blush and point his face back down at the ground. Mirio took his hand out of Tamaki’s hair and then held Tamaki’s chin, guiding his face up so he was now looking straight at Mirio.
“Don’t do that Tamaki, let me see you. You’re super cute when you blush!” Mirio said, giggling at the end. A smile spread across Tamaki’s face when he heard that, maybe the biggest smile he’d had in a while.
That smile ended when Mirio started leaning in to kiss him. Tamaki was startled at first, not knowing how to react, but eventually, he accepted Mirio’s kiss, letting their lips meet. As their lips pressed against each other, Mirio had his hands holding Tamaki’s face up as he let himself fall deeper and deeper into their kiss. They let themselves melt into each other for a brief moment.
But eventually, Mirio pulled away, with a smile stretching ear to ear on his face. “Come on Tamaki, let’s get out of here,” he said. He stood up and offered his hand to Tamaki, and once Tamaki grabbed Mirio’s hand, Mirio pulled him off the ground and started dragging him through the gas station, leading him back to their car. Mirio was as enthusiastic as always, and Tamaki was a bit put off by the energy, but in the way he was used to whenever he was with Mirio, and he never minded it. He kind of enjoyed it, actually.
Mirio eventually had dragged Tamaki into the back seat of the car, and Tamaki was resting himself comfortably against Mirio’s chest, feeling Mirio’s warmth as he laid against him. Mirio had one of his hands playing with Tamaki’s hair, and his other hand still held onto Tamaki’s hand.
“You make me so happy, Tamaki, you know that? I’m so happy right now, and I’ve always felt my happiest when I’m with you. I’m… really happy you feel the same way that I’ve felt all these years. I feel truly blessed.” Mirio chucked to himself after saying that and squeezed the other boy’s hand. “I honestly can’t believe you actually said it. I probably would have never confessed to you. I had always assumed only I felt like this and I didn’t want to bother you with it.”
“I... never really thought you would be the kind of person to worry about something like that, Mirio. Bothering someone with something like that, I mean.”
“Well, I did! I wouldn't want to mess up our friendship when you’re someone I care about so much. I’d never want to scare you away, Tamaki.”
“There’s no way you could ever do that, Mirio. I would never leave you.” Tamaki looked up at Mirio, still feeling full of appreciation and love for Mirio, the same appreciation and love he always had for Mirio. Why would he ever go anywhere? How could he ever go anywhere? Mirio was like heaven for Tamaki. He had never felt more safe, more calm, than he did at this moment.