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It’s dumb. It’s dumb and it’s stupid and dumb and idiotic and dumb and....and dumb.
Kaoru’s drunk brain is running out of words for how stupid he is. If he was thinking straight he probably would be able to fill a book, cover to cover, with thesaurus worthy words to describe just exactly how dumb he had been. But then again, if he had been thinking straight he never would have ended up in this predicament in the first place.
Because not 10 minutes before, had he pushed his (very sizable) best friend up against the wall of the house party they had decided to attend on a whim (Kojiro’s whim) and kissed him.
He had wrapped his fist around the collar of his stupid orange striped shirt and pulled him down. Had hardley hesitated for a moment before narrowing his eyes and firmly pressing his lips against the ones he had been dreaming about forever.
And now he was locked in the bathroom trying to drown himself in the (very empty) tub wondering just how long he would have to stay there until he would eventually disappear.
But no matter what he does, he cannot get the feeling out of his head.
Kojiro’s lips had been rougher than he'd imagined. But it wasn’t entirely surprising seeing that he would always steal Kaoru’s chapstick when he wasn’t looking (Kaoru was always looking). But if he was being completely honest, the feeling of that just perfect amount of roughness against his own had only drawn him in more.
Kaoru had never done well with soft. He had always felt that too-gentle-kindness and poems and sunlight were never for him. And nver would be. He needed that edge, that scratchiness, that sting. Softness made him scared. Like it was all too fragile and would eventually fall apart beneath him. He would much rather handle something - someone - who could handle him. Someone equally as prickly. Someone who could give as good as Kaoru could. Someone he wasn’t scared of breaking.
And Kojiro wouldn’t break. Not from Kaoru’s hands at least. Kaoru had been pushing at him ever since he could remember. Had tried his damndest to push the blockhead away. Ignored his calls for weeks. Spouted insults until he felt guilty. Done his absolute most to make Kojiro hate him.
But he had always been met with a swift kick in the ass and another chance. Insults had been shared instead of fielded and internalized. Every missed call was met with a threatening, annoyed text. And every fight and argument they had where Kojiro would growl back at him instead of backing down had made him fall even more in love.
Kaoru had always gone for the people he knew would hurt him before he had the chance to hurt them.
And it probably wasn’t healthy. To love to push and fight and test the way Kaoru did. But to his messed up sick mind, it was the only way he understood that Kojiro cared for him. That he was willing to push Kaoru so far back one way after he had pushed himself so far forward the other. That he wasn’t going to fold up into a flower when Kaoru got into one of his moods, but instead would only recognize it for what it was and move on. There would be no surprises. No shocks. No having to second guess when he saw another side of Kaoru that wasn’t for public viewing.
It made him perfect for Kaoru. It made him not afraid.
So that was why, he supposes, he had done it.
Because Kojiro made him feel fearless. And it was a terrifying high to come down from.
Even as he squeezed his eyes and curled even further in on himself, the scene only seemed to swirl around faster, playing over and over like a cruel nightmare in his mind.
Big hands on his upper arms, steadying him as he had stumbled forward, pushing Kojiro’s back into the wall. Kaoru had used the man’s chest, sturdy and warm, to push himself back up to his feet. Their faces had been inches apart, so close that Kaoru could see the little flecks of color in his eyes. He had wondered, only briefly, what it was that Kojiro saw when he looked at him.
“Kaoru?”
The voice had rumbled from beneath where his hand sat, pale and thin, against tanned skin. It had enveloped him in a strange sort of energy that made him feel safe and happy and fearless. As far as his drunk mind could understand, it was just them. The world had all but faded away and it was only the two of them there.
Standing in that hallway. Three feet from the top of the world. He and Kojiro.
They had spent endless years together. Taken lifetimes to build what they had. Yet it had only taken a single moment to change everything.
Soft rough lips on his, big hand still gripping at his arm. He was surrounded by the scent and thought and feeling of Kojiro.
He had no idea how long it had lasted. His brain skipping around time and space. Nothing felt real.
But when he had pulled back and met wide shocked eyes, it was like an anchor tore him from where he had been floating and into chill shocked waters. Waves of panic and horror crashed through his very soul nearly bringing him to his knees. He had to go. He had to leave.
He hadn’t even tried to muster up the courage to throw together the complexity of the word “sorry” and had hightailed it out of there as fast as he could.
He'd found the bathroom down an empty muted hallway.
Dumb. Stupid. Idiotic. Stupid. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.
He had curled himself into as tight a ball as possible and wished himself to wake up from this dream. This nightmare. He felt sick. If he didn’t have Kojiro he didn't have anything. In a moment of selfish stupid elation, he had let his entire world fall apart into his very own lap. And he didn't even have all of the pieces to put it back together.
He had flown too close to the man made of sun and his tears were the melting wax between his wings.
He could wave it off in the morning when Kojiro would undoubtedly ask, pretend he had no idea what he was talking about, pretend he had no recollection of it even happening, pretend to have an evil twin (?). But no matter what the lie was, Kojiro wouldn't believe it. He never did.
And as he sat there, tears streaming down his face as he tried to hold himself together in a stranger's bathroom, he would have given absolutely anything in the world to take it all back. To turn back the clock. To disappear.
Because Kojiro hadn’t kissed him back.