Work Text:
Yosuke Hanamura was not a studious boy. So the fact that he worked at the library (primarily the nightshifts at that) usually earned some laughs and weird looks from his friends. You could ask anyone, though, this was not his first choice. Not by a long shot. Working the midnight shifts at a library could be surprisingly terrifying with the only occupants being kids strung out on caffeine trying to finish that final paper or he would think the library is completely empty and try and nap before some asshole decides to scare the shit out of him by asking for more toner for the printer.
Tonight was a night like any other… Was what his shitty novel he had to read for his baccalaureate core English class novel said, as he skimmed the page idly, eyes glazing over each sentence more and more until it became a sea of black and white. He didn’t know why he even tried doing homework at this hour anymore - he couldn’t do it unless he had around 2 bottles of Mountain Dew and a cup of coffee and even then he’d usually divulge into a shaking mess before he even accomplished any bit of the homework he hoped to. In the silence of the library, he found his thoughts drifting from the plot of the novel to the girl who smiled at him and offered to buy him coffee earlier today, and his math teacher mentioning that there’d be a quiz in recitation this week, and the party he went to a couple weeks ago with that boy with the bowl cut who he discussed philosophy with on the back porch while they sipped shitty wine… He didn’t really know why he found himself mulling over that memory so often, it wasn’t really anything special, but it also didn’t blur into oblivion like the rest of that night did. Huh.
Yosuke eventually gave up all pretenses of looking professional, laying his head on the desk and wrapping and unwrapping his headphone chord around his fingers. The library also seemed ready to go to sleep, with the walls creaking as the wood shrunk in the cold night air.
“Ah!”
“Shit!”
Yosuke instantly covered his mouth as he’d been told off before to watch his mouth when on the job. But, fuck, who yells in the middle of a library? Rousing himself from his comfy chair and warm desk-spot (he takes what he can get), he went to visit the main sitting room where the scream probably came from. The room was mostly empty, with the tables abandoned and chairs strewn where students had forgotten to push them in, all except for one guy, nonchalantly typing on his laptop as if he hadn’t just screamed at the creaking of the walls. Yosuke tensed as he immediately recognized the boy as the same one he shared a deep, slightly inebriated philosophical discussion with.
Shit, do I look alright? Wait, why do I care? This is just some guy, if anything he should be embarrassed, he’s the one who screamed and I work here and I was just doing my job, dammit. Why does this shit always happen to me? Ugh, whatever, I need to make sure he’s okay – I’m pretty sure that’s policy when someone screams. Do we even have screaming policies, I wasn’t trained to deal with this.
He mentally wavered back and forth on what to do, when the boy finally looked up from his laptop.
“Are you alright?” He asked, giving Yosuke a curious glance, then an up-down glance, before returning to his laptop.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” Yosuke mentally cursed himself for losing his cool – evident in the slightly screechy tone his voice took on.
“I’m fine, thank you for asking though. By the way, do we know each other?” The boy responded.
Yosuke was vaguely impressed by how deftly the boy switched the subject, it was such a natural change he wouldn’t have thought anything of it if he hadn’t noticed the slight blush on his cheeks (it was kind of cute). Wait, why did I think of him as cute, boys aren’t cute. While Yosuke was mentally berating himself, the other boy known as Souji (if Yosuke hadn’t been so drunk that night, he would’ve known this) went back to furiously typing on his keyboard, silently accepting that Yosuke was either in the middle of a mental breakdown from lack of sleep and gay thoughts or simply lost the will to speak. Eventually, Souji’s question registered in Yosuke’s addled brain.
“I-I think so? Were you at that Pi Sigma Ro party a couple weeks ago?” Yosuke asked, pulling out the chair across from Souji’s laptop because fuck work.
“Oh, right. That. My roommate dragged me along. I don’t mind talking to people, but frat parties aren’t my usual scene.” That didn’t surprise Yosuke too much. Souji, in his flannel sweater, jean jacket mixed with denim pants, and combat boots didn’t give off a “I drink out of Red Solo cups and play beer pong” vibe. Not that Yosuke had a problem with that. The amazing thing about that seemingly “above you” statement that Souji made is that he didn’t even sound elitist, instead sounding like he was merely stating a fact. How he pulled that off was a mystery to Yosuke.
“Ah, I have a couple friends in that frat so they invited me to come. It was okay. But weren’t you the guy that was out on the back deck?” Yosuke said, ending with a nervous laugh as he remembered the way Souji so effortlessly weaved conversations ranging from their “true selves” to their “shadow selves” to what truth really means, all the while Yosuke stumbled along like a drunken asshole.
The streetlights painted frat row’s piss-stained streets a fluorescent yellow as Souji Seta sipped his cherry wine. He idly watched the couples laugh and hold each other up as the hobbled along the street, leaning against one another to support their shared weight. The sight made his insides burn a little (or that was the alcohol, who really knew). He was shaken out of his sentimental, sarcastic thoughts by the sound of the sliding glass door leading to the balcony being thrust open by a clearly drunk boy.
“I wanted some air, hahaha, God! What the Hell is with your face?” Yosuke Hanamura, as the drunk boy was known, asked, reaching forward to clasp Souji’s face in his hands.
“What’s wrong with it?” Souji replied, calmly removing Yosuke’s hands (which had started stroking Souji’s cheeks) and placing them back at Yosuke’s sides.
“It’s just… Perfect. Like the moon, ya know?” Yosuke said, staring off into space where the full moon was glowing. How poetic, Souji thought to himself, trying to ignore the fact that the moon was full of craters and definitely not the definition of perfect. It was the thought that counted. Souji figured he could have some fun with this, though.
“Yosuke, what do you think of when you think of ‘the truth’?”
“First, how do you know my name? Second, dude you gotta stop staring at me with your eyes… Like… C, what the Hell does that even mean?” Souji almost started giggling at the wide-eyed stare that Yosuke was giving him and if he was more sober he’d probably feel bad for freaking out this poor, inebriated guy but alcohol made him lose some of his usually perfect tact.
“I mean, what do you think something means to be ‘true’? Also, you introduced yourself to me earlier in the night.” He refused to break eye contact. Seeing Yosuke get flustered under his gaze made something inside him purr with delight (again, maybe it was that shitty cherry wine).
“Oh, uh. True things are things like 2 + 2 = 4, right? Like, the truth is never not true? Dude, why are you asking me this?... Do you have any tattoos?” Yosuke’s ability to switch conversation topics really amazed Souji.
“No, I don’t have any tattoos yet. But, isn’t the truth more than that? Don’t you ever feel anything and know that that feeling is true? Like, the certainty of death is a truth we can never escape.” He swirled the drink in his hand, as Yosuke shuffled uncomfortably under his steely gaze. He took another sip, licked the deep red wine off his lips, and sat the drink down. The silence hung in the air.
“I-I guess you’re right. I know - God this is going to sound stupid - there’s been moments when I’m listening to music and I feel this… Feeling like ‘this is it. This is what it means to be alive’, ya know? Or, when you’re with your friends and you realize that, even though nothing important’s happening, that they’re special to you. And you’re special to them. A-and right now you… Never mind.” And for the first time, Souji broke eye contact, blushing at this confession that wasn’t really a confession so much as a truth.
“Exactly. That wasn’t stupid at all, by the way.” Souji said, smiling despite himself.
“Haha, God, I was so drunk that night,” Yosuke self-consciously rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re Souji, right?”
“Yes. I’m sorry about asking you all those weird questions that night, I was… Under the influence and wasn’t totally myself.”
“That’s okay, I actually thought it was kind of cool. Like, you just said what you wanted to say without any sort of regret or anything.”
“You did that too, though.”
Yosuke instantly flushed at the memory of his mumbled confession of sorts and the way Souji seemed to glow after he said that. He realized he wanted to see Souji wear that expression again, one of complete and utter joy in response to something he himself said.
“I was drunk, whatever I said was stupid, I’m sure.”
“Well, you said my face was perfect like the moon so I don’t think that’s stupid.”
“Shut up, oh my God.” Souji was laughing, that bastard. “Anyways, why did you scream?”
“Oh, right. Well, when the library creaked, it startled me. I’ve been here since 3 pm this afternoon and it’s now been about 12 hours and I’m nearly done with this psychology research paper now.” Again, he evaded the embarrassing part of the story and turned it into something impressive. Fuck this guy.
“God, I couldn’t do that. Props to you, man. Well, if you want, my shift is nearly over so we could go and get some coffee and turn this into an all-nighter.” Yosuke said. The implications of the offer weren’t lost on Souji, who raised his eyebrow inquisitively.
“An ‘all-nighter’ you say?”
“Shut up, asshole, or else I’m not buying your coffee.”