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Side: A
“Pspsps, Kazu.” Poking his head around the corner into the otherwise deserted common room, Azuma calls his friend like a cat. It works, though, Kazunari looking up from his laptop and the drawing tablet he’s set over the keyboard.
“Oh, hey Azu. What’s— oooh.” He perks up as he notices the two ice cream bars dangling from Azuma’s hand by their expensive-looking white and gold wrappers.
“I just put a whole box in the freezer,” Azuma says, “But who knows how long they’ll stay in there. Do you feel like a break?”
“Well, if you insist!” Kazunari says with a grin, stretching before shifting the computer carefully from his cross-legged lap to the coffee table. “I’ve gotta stand up soon anyway. Oh, just lemme save first.”
“Of course.”
“Is school going all right?” Azuma asks as they tear into the ice cream out on the balcony, where an early summer breeze stirs the warm air just enough to keep it pleasant. Kazunari laughs. There’s a painful edge to it. “Sorry, you were trying to take a break, weren’t you. We just haven’t really talked in a minute, so I was wondering.”
“It’s okay, I’m just… kinda busy.” He replies, a little sheepishly, as if answering both the question of how school is and why they haven’t been hanging out. “Haha… sorry.”
“We’ll be happy to have you back at game night whenever they let you relax.” Azuma replies gently, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. Then there’s ice cream to eat, and nothing more is said for a little while.
"Sorry I’ve been flaking out on game night." Kazunari says eventually, and he sounds like he feels a bit less guilty about it now. "You guys find more players, or...?"
"It's okay, we've just been drinking more instead." Azuma pauses, laughing. "Oh, that doesn't sound great, does it. I mean if there's no game we just end up socializing. And, you know, I'm never going to complain about spending a little extra time with Sakyo-kun if nobody else is available."
An odd look crosses Kazunari’s face, and he tilts his head a little. “Azu, do you have like… a thing for Frooch? Like legit?”
“I haven’t been subtle about it, have I?”
“No.” He says, much too easily. “But you’re kind of a flirty guy, you know? It’s a thing. I couldn’t tell if you were for serious!”
“Well, ‘serious’ is a lot. But yes, I do actually like him quite a bit.” Azuma drums his fingertips on his jawline, smiling despite himself. “He’s a good man. And I think we complement each other well.” His smile broadens a little. “He’s pretty sexy, too.”
“You should tell him!”
Azuma laughs on instinct, because it sounds like a joke. Then he realizes Kazunari is serious.
“No, I don’t think I should,” He says, still trying to laugh it off.
“No, I def feel like he might be down if it was you,” Kazunari says, more of his thoughtful self than usual starting to show through. “Even if he wasn’t, I don’t think he’d be weird about it. But he totally has a soft spot for you.”
“I mean…” Azuma hesitates, and then decides to just upend the bucket of worms hanging over the conversation. “I’m fairly sure he has feelings for the director.” He regrets upending the bucket immediately. There are worms everywhere. He didn’t even want to think about them but now he can’t put them back in the bucket.
“Well, yeah.” Kazunari says, again, far too easily, which twinges just a bit. He knew that, he’s literally the one who brought it up, but it’s still disheartening for him to agree so immediately. “Like half of us do. But I think…” He trails off, looking intently into the distance as something seems to occur to him.
“…What?” Azuma asks, not without trepidation. “Your ice cream is dripping, by the way.”
“Oh, thanks.” Kazunari catches the drip before it falls onto his hand, unfortunately extending the silence before he finishes saying what he thinks.
“…I think he might feel the same way about both of you?” He says, and Azuma doesn’t inhale his own ice cream and start coughing, because he wasn’t stupid enough to start eating it again right before Kazunari spoke.
“…Mm,” he says, doubtfully. Then he has to be stupid after all and work on finishing his ice cream, because he’ll shortly have a sticky arm himself if he doesn’t.
“No, like. You can both get away with totally shameless stuff with him. If anyone else teased him half as bad as you guys do they’d be in so much trouble, like, I know he’s a softie on the inside but he’s not that much of a softie. Except for you. Like, he’s still got dignity. Except when it’s you making fun of him.” Azuma starts to feel… odd. Kind of warm and nervous in a way he’s not all that familiar with, because Kazunari isn't wrong.
“Also, Azu, you’re gonna have to take my word on this one cause he fully does not do it when you’re looking, but he looks at you like…” Kazunari trails off again, thinking, and when he starts again most of the piko-sity is gone from his voice. “Like he’d do anything for you if it came down to it. Like he wants to protect you.”
The last of his ice cream gone, Azuma dabs his paper napkin against his mouth before speaking. “Kazu…” He begins cautiously, because he’s trying not to get his hopes up too much but they’re still getting up. None of this sounds wrong, but those worms are still all over the place. Sakyo has never seemed like the sort of person who was made to love more than one person at once, and the idea that he might be mistaken about that is painfully tempting. Because what Kazunari is saying is sounding increasingly, alarmingly plausible. That seems to be dawning on him as well, because his eyes are slowly widening as he continues, returning to his usual mode of speech in his excitement.
“For real though, he like, puts aside so much time for you it’s unreal. Also, a hundred percent sure he thinks you’re sexy too. I mean, big surprise, he has eyes, but like, again. He doesn’t do it when you’re looking but he totally checks you out sometimes.” That surprises a laugh out of him, because the image of Sakyo checking him out is just too absurd. Kazunari’s tone takes on a hint of exasperation alongside his excitement. “Oh my god, Azu, I’m for real here! He likes you! Like, like likes you! Like he fully wants you!”
“I… not like that, I don’t think…” He prevaricates, half-covering a wry smile with one hand.
“He wants your cute little butt!” Kazunari insists, eyes sparkling.
“I really don’t think he…” Azuma pauses, momentarily distracted enough that he doesn’t hear the door behind them open. “…It’s cute?” Kazunari stares at him in disbelief.
“Oh. My god. You know I mean this in a totes bro way but Azu, have you seen a mirror lately? Or ever?”
“What on Earth are you two— actually, never mind. Don’t tell me.”
Azuma’s stomach does an uncomfortable little flip at the voice of the exact person he was hoping not to see right now, when his mental state is so confused and complicated.
“Frooch! Just the man I was hoping to see!” Kazunari chirps, grinning. Oh dear.
“…Why.” Sakyo asks, somehow managing ‘wearily’ and ‘warily’ at the same time.
“Kazu, don’t—“ He honestly has no idea what Kazunari is about to do, but he’s pretty sure it isn’t a good idea.
“Tell Azu his butt is cute!” Kazunari says earnestly, putting a hand on Azuma’s shoulder and playing the role of someone trying to reassure an insecure friend to the hilt.
Normally, Azuma would quite enjoy seeing Sakyo flush and stumble indignantly through a few different syllables at a loss for words. Normally, that means he’s won. Right now he’s too busy quietly dying inside.
“No??” Sakyo eventually manages, and Kazunari gasps with extremely convincing dismay.
“Frooch, I can’t believe you! First, rude. Also, double-you-tee-eff happened to your taste?!” He turns to Azuma, a look of deep concern on his face. “Azu, I’m so sorry. I really thought he had eyes.”
“I didn’t… That’s not what I.” Sakyo stumbles again. “I’m just not going to… I… it’s… your…” He closes his eyes, pushing up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose while he collects himself a little, and finally gets out a full statement. “…It’s fine.”
“What is?” Kazunari says, seemingly genuinely, and Azuma wishes he were anywhere else, except that this would probably be even worse without him here.
…The way Sakyo is avoiding his gaze is kind of interesting, though.
“…Come on.” Sakyo pushes his glasses up further to cover his eyes with his hand in mortification, just as Azuma has been suppressing the urge to do for the last thirty seconds. Beneath the hand, his face has gone an even deeper shade of red. “…Your… You look good.” He finally seems to decide that’s the best he’s getting out, and returns his glasses to their rightful place, still avoiding looking at Azuma. “You’re a good-looking man.”
“…Thank you.” Azuma says slowly, gears beginning to turn. “And sorry.” He lets out an embarrassed little chuckle.
“Are you happy now?” Sakyo shoots at Kazunari who, instead of answering, looks back at Azuma.
“I told you,” He says, smiling, and gives him the briefest of winks.
The way Sakyo layers up even when it’s warm out is cute, but Azuma can’t help but think the sight of him in a polo shirt and sweatpants, unwinding on the balcony with a drink after dinner, is cuter. It’s nice to see this more relaxed, unguarded side of him. The sun’s set an hour or so ago, the night is alive with the summery sounds of distant cicadas and evening birdsong, and Azuma goes to the locked cupboard over the stove to fix a drink of his own before sneaking out onto the balcony himself.
“Mind if I join you?” He purrs, sliding up next to Sakyo on the railing.
“I can’t stop you.” Sakyo says, not even pretending irritation.
“I wouldn’t impose upon you if you wanted to be left alone.” Azuma says, in a faux-stung tone he knows Sakyo will see through immediately.
“Yes you would.” Sakyo says, again without heat, in an almost playful tone. For him, anyway.
“Well.” Azuma rests his chin on his hand, leaning onto the railing. “Maybe if I thought you needed a friend.”
Sakyo mutters something that sounds a bit like “I usually do,” and Azuma chooses to let it slide with nothing more than a breath of a laugh, which Sakyo also lets slide.
They get out a couple minutes of conversation about the day's happenings, but after a certain point, they just run out. The silence left behind isn't uncomfortable exactly, but it's heavier than the normal lulls in conversation between them. Or maybe it's fine, and Azuma is just unusually on edge.
After some time, Sakyo lifts his free hand, holding it out at arm’s length over the side of the balcony and making a pinching gesture in midair. Azuma doesn’t understand until he speaks.
“S’odd how small the moon really is.” He muses, and Azuma glances up to the sky. He mimics Sakyo’s gesture and is shocked at how close he has to pinch his fingers together to approximate the size of the full moon in the darkening sky.
“Oh, wow, it is,” He says, which isn’t exactly a brilliant observation, but he really hadn’t been expecting it; if he holds his hand still and closes one eye, it looks like he’s holding a small, shining pearl between thumb and forefinger. “I thought it was a lot bigger than that.”
“Same, I always picture it as, you know, coin-sized.” Sakyo spreads his fingers apart in midair. “But it’s really more like…” He pauses, tilting his head. “Never mind.” He says gruffly, and Azuma knows he’s feeling self-conscious.
“No, what were you thinking?”
“You’ll make fun of me.”
“I won’t.”
“…It’s more like the sky is… a beaded stage curtain with one sequin on it.” Sakyo says eventually, and Azuma almost sighs aloud.
“Oh, no, you’re right.” He says, smiling. “Why would I make fun of you for that?”
“I don’t know why you would, but whenever I say anything sentimental you have to call me on it.”
Azuma chuckles. “Is that making fun of you? I apologize, I have this problem where I just can’t help but call you cute when you’re being cute.”
“But you’re always calling me cute.” Sakyo sighs, resigned, running a hand through his bangs and leaving them ruffled.
“Hmm, I wonder why.” Azuma smiles, breaking into another quiet laugh when Sakyo pulls a face. “What a mystery.”
A long moment passes without either of them saying anything, and Azuma starts to get uneasy; Something about tonight is definitely different from usual, their usual comfortable flow of conversation disrupted.
“…Sakyo-kun?”
“What is it?” Sakyo rouses from what appears to be deep thought.
“Do you really dislike when I tease you?”
“Who’d like being teased?” He sighs, and Azuma really can’t tell if he’s being honest or just being his usual curmudgeonly self.
“Should I stop?” He asks quietly.
“…’S fine.” Sakyo mutters. “I can handle it.”
“I don’t want you to just handle it if you don’t like—“
“I don’t want you to stop.” Sakyo cuts him off abruptly, his irritated expression not changing but the tips of his ears turning a bit red. “All right?”
“…All right.”
“It’d be weird if you stopped now. That’s all.”
“Okay.” He can’t stop the smile spreading warmly across his face at that, because he understands. He honestly wants to tease Sakyo even more now, but it doesn’t seem like the time. Though, Sakyo did just tell him not to hold back… No, he’ll be good. Just this once, he’ll be good.
“About yesterday. With Miyoshi.” Sakyo begins at some length, awkwardly, and Azuma’s warm mood dissolves as he remembers that mortifying episode.
“Oh, gosh. I’m sorry,” He begins with a chuckle, and Sakyo stops him.
“No, it’s fine. Not your fault, anyway. It was… There was something else.”
“What was it?”
“It just surprised me that you… needed reassurance.” He says quietly. “I didn’t think you were the sort to be insecure about your appearance. You always seem confident.”
“I’m not, really.” Azuma confesses, smiling. “Insecure, I mean. Kazu just got a little carried away.”
“If you say so.” Sakyo says, neutrally, and Azuma gets the impression he doesn’t entirely believe it. “…I meant what I said, though.”
“What?”
“When I said you were a good-looking man. Very good-looking, actually.” He gently swirls the ice in his glass, watching the meltwater mix in. Azuma’s heart does something it’s probably not supposed to. “…But, I’ve also known a lot of very good-looking people. It never made any of them more worth my time.”
Azuma’s heart is now doing something it’s definitely not supposed to.
“You’re worth spending my limited time on this earth with.” Sakyo says, very quietly, looking up from his glass to the blue velvet sky beyond the balcony and its sequin moon. He smiles dryly. “Being easy on the eyes is a nice bonus at most.”
Azuma, for the first time in a while, is left at a loss for words.
Because Sakyo’s seen to the heart of it; that even if he cultivates an impression of cheerful vanity or at worst a sort of vapid concern about his looks, the fear isn’t really that he’ll stop being attractive. It’s that if he stops being attractive, everyone he loves will cease to love him in return and he will be alone.
And of course, even acknowledging that makes him feel ashamed of himself, because how could he possibly think that little of his loved ones? How could he worry about that even a little? But the shame doesn’t override the fear.
As nice as it is to hear Sakyo tell him he’s beautiful, the part that makes him want to cry is hearing Sakyo tell him he’s worthwhile. It aches, because he wasn’t ready for it, he wasn’t ready for how badly he needed to hear it, and he doesn’t know how much he should be reading into it. He doesn’t know how to start untangling the implications of that last statement, either, and that hurts as well; not because it’s unwanted, but because it’s just too much to deal with all at once.
He stands staring into the sky and letting the ice in his drink melt for a long moment before he realizes he should probably say something.
“Thank you.” He says softly, and Sakyo makes a low, wordless noise in return, lifting his glass to take a slow sip and leaning forward onto the balustrade. After an oddly tense silence, he turns his face away slightly, just enough that Azuma can’t see his expression.
“…Moon’s pretty tonight, too.” He says awkwardly, and Azuma’s heart, apparently tired from all the stunts it’s been pulling in the last minute or so, just stops. “Even if it is smaller than we think.”
And… just… what is he supposed to do with this? Is he supposed to take this as a confession and if so, how is he supposed to respond? A number of options cross his mind, from laughing and saying “I like you too, Sakyo-kun” in a teasing tone to just grabbing him by the collar and kissing him right there on the balcony.
In the end, he says, “Mm. It really is lovely, isn’t it.” Sakyo glances back to him with something complicated on his face, something approaching hope.
He takes one step sideways, just one. Scooting along the balustrade just enough for their shoulders to touch, which is by far not the most intimate gesture he’s made with Sakyo, but right now it feels like the most he can handle. Sakyo doesn’t step away, either, moving his hand back to bring their forearms into contact as well, the sides of their hands touching on the rail. He looks away again, the flush on his cheeks barely visible in the low light.
Azuma turns his eyes back to the sky, leaning slightly into him, his heart feeling painfully full.
“I feel the same.” He murmurs slowly, and grows bolder as he hears a soft intake of breath from beside him. “I think you thought I was making fun of you the last time I said this, but I really do want to stay by your side, Sakyo. As much as you’ll let me.”
“Let you…” Sakyo sighs, equal parts elation and exasperation. He stops there, like the words have just run out, hooking his little finger over Azuma’s on the railing.
Tentatively, he tilts his head down a little, resting his cheek on Sakyo’s shoulder, and Sakyo responds in kind, resting his own cheek against the top of Azuma’s head.
It’s perfect until a noise from behind them breaks the living silence of the evening, interrupting the leaves rustling in the courtyard with the scuff of a door against the cement floor. He turns his head to look behind them and spots Omi hastily retreating back into the kitchen, trying to close the door silently and failing. For what feels like the millionth time this evening, he smiles.
“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” he suggests with a hint of mirth in his voice, and Sakyo sighs again, a bit of a laugh in it himself.
“Geez…” he says, letting Azuma pull his hand away with only a little reluctance.
Crossing the threshold into room 206, Azuma immediately turns, gently pressing Sakyo's back against the just-shut door. He traces his fingertips tenderly along Sakyo's jawline, murmuring, "I hope you didn't think you were going to get away with not kissing me tonight." He tries to inject enough playful teasing into his tone to make it clear he's not seriously expecting it if Sakyo isn't ready, but Sakyo's hand finds his waist and tugs and he definitely, absolutely is ready.
Azuma leans into him, pressing him into the door for a solid half a minute before pulling away, a little lightheaded, his desire to be kissed momentarily exhausted. He buries his face in his collar instead, letting Sakyo's arms draw closer around him and squeeze him tight.
"What, you demanded I kiss you and now you're tired of it already?" His voice is dripping with playful feigned irritation, and Azuma can't help but laugh in response.
"Some of us have lungs, Sakyo-kun."
"So I'm Sakyo-kun again?" Sakyo asks, softly, and Azuma tugs back a little to look at him.
"Is that a problem?"
"I'm used to it." He concedes. "But for a minute there I thought... we might be going out or something."
"Is there a law against me having a pet name for you if we are?"
"Oh, is it a pet name now?" Sakyo raises one eyebrow, looking unimpressed.
"Did you think it wasn't always a pet name?" Azuma can feel the corners of his mouth curling up, and lets it happen. "After all, I've always..." He leans in, mid-sentence, to place a soft kiss on Sakyo's lips. "I've always liked you, Sakyo-kun." He whispers.
Sakyo pulls him back in like the only thing in the world that matters is kissing Azuma’s lip salve off, because it is. His hands find purchase on Azuma’s back, not groping him or slipping under his shirt but still making it very clear that he does, in Kazunari’s words, fully want him.
Side: S
It’s an interesting question: How do you reassure someone you have feelings for that they are attractive without outright telling them you find them attractive? It’s also a question he would have liked to have a little more time to think about on his own, but Miyoshi Kazunari has decided today he doesn’t get to have nice things, such as “time to think.” In the end, he forces out something about Azuma being “good-looking,” which isn’t an answer to the actual prompt that was given but is hopefully good enough. What feels most important right now is making sure it’s as far as possible from the truth, which is approximately “sometimes when I look at you I forget how to breathe” with a side of “I spend at least one percent of my time thinking about touching you.” That doesn’t sound like a lot, when he puts it like that, but fifteen minutes a day spent craving physical contact with someone who’s just supposed to be a friend is definitely a lot.
Motion catches his eye, and he glances over to Azuma’s tapered fingers playing idly with the clean end of a chocolate-stained popsicle stick. He glances upward, unwisely, and is only able to bear a split second of Azuma’s calm, impassive gaze, soft damiana liquor brown eyes boring straight into him. He looks away.
“…Thank you.” Azuma says a few seconds after, and his voice, too, is totally unreadable. Sakyo kind of hates when he gets like this, one of the few things he can honestly say he doesn’t lo— like about the man. But the embarrassment in his laugh is obvious and genuine, and that makes it a little easier.
“Are you happy now?” He says to Kazunari, who gives Azuma a cat-with-canary smile instead of answering him, and he wonders with a vague feeling of foreboding what they were actually talking about before he came out here. He has the distinct feeling he’s been duped. He just doesn’t know how.
And somehow that translates into sitting cross-legged at his table one-on-one with Citron that evening; Citron, who's known about his issue with Azuma since they filmed in Kyoto together, who figured it out entirely on his own, and has never breathed a word or let slip the faintest hint to anyone else. The one person he wouldn't rather jump into the ocean in January than explain this afternoon's incident to, although it's still mortifying. He's regretting it a bit now, though, because as always, it's come around to this.
“I believe Azuma enjoys you as well!” Citron says encouragingly, with such conviction that for a second Sakyo almost believes it too. “You have an above-average number of legs!”
Sakyo resists the urge to rub his temple. “I…” He pauses, thinking it through, and ends up rubbing his temple after all. “I… technically do, but I don’t think that’s what you meant.”
Citron waves his hand vaguely through the air in frustration. “You are the sort of person he likes,” He says, apparently giving up on whatever abstruse phrasing he’d been trying for. “Like puzzle pieces. But… not two halves, you’re both whole people. Two whole people that fit together well.”
“You think so." Sakyo says noncommittally, resting his chin on his palm and not bothering to make it sound like a question.
“I do!” Citron says enthusiastically, and follows it with what Sakyo was hoping he wouldn’t say. “You should tell him.”
“…Can’t.” Sakyo mutters into his hand. “Too much of a chicken shit.”
“Azuma is a gentle person.” Citron says after a long pause to think, his voice suddenly much quieter than Sakyo’s used to. “He has a large amount of love inside him. I don’t think he is someone you need to be poultry about.”
“Having a lot of love in him doesn’t mean it’s for me.”
“He is gentle.” Citron repeats, like Sakyo didn’t hear it the first time. “I mean whether or not he has the same feelings, he cares for you. He isn’t going to hurt you.”
“I know he wouldn't mean to. Just knowing he doesn’t feel the same way would hurt.”
“Would it hurt more than not knowing?” When he looks up, Citron’s eyebrows are raised, eyes fixed on him with unusual intensity, like they’re seeing straight through him. It’s not really comfortable. “Is it fine if nothing ever happens, then? If you bet nothing, you will not win anything.”
“…What's even your angle here? Why are you trying to talk me into confessing?” Sakyo says evasively.
“I’m not!” Citron replies cheerfully, standing up and brushing the folds out of his clothes. “I just do not think you are a chicken shit, Sakyo.” Then he just walks out.
Was that… meant to reassure him? Or was it supposed to be challenging him or goading him on? It’s kind of doing all three at once, and he feels oddly resentful about that. It’s irritating that the only way to avoid feeling insulted is to prove Citron right.
Fortunately for him, Citron is right. The very next day, the very next time they’re alone together, the mood is right and the evening is blue and beautiful and he unexpectedly finds it in himself to tell Azuma how he feels. Even the lead-up goes okay, as clumsy as it is. Unfortunately for both of them, Citron is also kind of wrong, and at the last second he ends up doing it in the most chicken shit way possible.
He stands there at the railing with a cold sweaty highball glass threatening to slip out of his hand and smash on the cement downstairs, berating himself for ruining whatever chances he may have had by pulling that weak-ass clichéd move and wishing the floor would open up and swallow him.
But Azuma is gentle and full of love and good at reading between the lines as well, and the sweet caramel voice next to him murmurs that the moon really is lovely tonight, and he supposes maybe it’s a little early to renege on this bet after all.
Being in love is an odd curse, a kind of desire where the wanting doesn't stop just because you got what you wanted. Being with Azuma doesn't make him feel whole, because he was whole before. It just feels right, like finding a smooth sun-warmed stone at the beach that fits perfectly into your hand and never wanting to set it down again.
Azuma's hand fits his like a smooth stone, warm and heavy, and the faint sigh of contentment right where it's meant to be beside him makes him feel like he was made to love Azuma. Not in any sort of sense that he was incomplete without him, simply that being the person he is, it was just inevitable that he would love the person that Azuma is; like puzzle pieces from different puzzles that just happen to fit together perfectly. He only hopes Azuma feels the same way.