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The light drizzle had turned into a pouring rain without Doppio noticing. He’d gotten caught in it unexpectedly and cursed as he ran for cover, finding himself under the overhang from one of the outdoor science buildings. He’s completely soaked— and it was just his luck, really, for forgetting his umbrella at home.
Under the closest overhang Doppio could find, he shivers, clothes wet and chilled to the bone. With a shake of his head, Doppio attempts to dry himself off as much as possible. He’s forced to peel off his ruined jacket, setting it down beside him. An annoyed scowl creeps over his face as he concedes to undo his intricate braid as well.
Wringing out what water he can from his clothes, Doppio lets loose a string of swears escape his mouth. A sudden soft chuckle grabs his attention. He turns to see an amused Risotto, sitting on one of the benches against the building.
“How long have you been here?” Doppio asks, trying his best to dry his loose hair.
“Since second.” The junior replies, patting the seat next to him. An invitation to sit.
Doppio stands up, slinging his back over his shoulder. “But it’s almost fifth period now?”
“So it is. What’re you doing out of class, anyway?” Risotto raises a brow.
“It’s my free period,” Doppio says, stuffing his soggy jacket under his arm. “I’m just running around.”
Finding himself as dry as he can possibly make himself right then and there, Doppio makes his way to Risotto. The other scoots over to allow Doppio to sit next to him.
The seat is just high enough to allow Doppio to swing his legs under and up as he hums a small melody. The rain isn’t too loud as to drown out his soft voice. Risotto doesn’t seem to mind as he returns to his book, paging through it languidly. Both of them relax into each other’s presence.
Some minutes pass before Doppio dares to strike up a conversation. ”Hey, Risotto?”
“Hmm?” The other responds without looking up from his book.
“Do you want to talk? Or, um… play a game?”
Red irises lift away from the words on the page to look up at Doppio’s expectant doe eyes. “A… game?”
“Yes!” Happily smiling at the eye contact, he continues. “Like truth or dare, maybe?”
“How old do you think we are?”
Doppio puffs out his cheeks. “You don’t need to play if you think it’s so childish!”
“I didn’t say that. ” If Risotto thinks Doppio’s pout is cute, well… no one needs to know.
“Great! So,” Doppio grins cheekily. “Truth or dare?”
Risotto sighs before dog-earing his current page, bookmarking it for later. “Truth.”
“You’re so boring.” Doppio whines, unfazed by Risotto’s light-hearted glare. “Let me see… Oh! Do you like cats?”
“How am I the boring one when you ask something like that?”
“It’s an important question! You are legally obligated to answer!”
“Since when was Truth or Dare legally binding?” Risotto huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re… cute, I guess.”
The rainfall continues outside, doing nothing to muffle Doppio’s laugh. Risotto looks away, failing to hide his embarrassment from his senior.
“The bad boy thinks cats are cute!” Doppio gushes.
Risotto hurries to change the subject. “Truth or dare,” he blurts out, attempting to throw Doppio off.
The other’s face twists into a snort, the last of his laughter dying down. “Dare; do your worst!”
Risotto contemplates his options before saying, in a joking tone, “Take a lap around the building.”
Doppio was never one to turn down a challenge, even if he knew it wasn’t the best idea.
Standing up from the bench, he stretches his arms in preparation.
“Hey,” Risotto looks worried. “Wait—!”
He was too late to stop Doppio from dashing off with a laugh.
Risotto’s worst makes Doppio return drenched from the storm.
“You didn’t have to actually do that.” Risotto grumbles, only a little guilty. He’s standing by the edge of the overhang, clearly waiting for Doppio to return.
Doppio sneezes before stubbornly shaking water from his head, tremors wracking his thin frame.
He’s miserable. Doppio sneezes again, followed by more shivering to punctuate his suffering. Maybe it really wasn’t worth braving the rain.
Well, what’s done was done. He made to move back to the bench to sit in his little puddle. He pauses when he notices Risotto standing up to walk towards him.
“What are you doing?” Doppio asks, puzzled by Risotto’s sudden movement.
He doesn’t acknowledge the question, shrugging off his leather jacket. He drapes his shed clothing over Doppio’s shoulders despite the other’s protests.
“But now you’ll be cold; that’s a lose-lose situation!” The senior argues.
“Doubtful,” Risotto says, scratching at the back of his neck. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I made you run around in the storm.”
Doppio waves off the apology. Instead of continuing to forcibly return the jacket, he offers up half of it. “At the very least, we should share.”
Risotto blinks.
Realizing just what he’s offering, Doppio’s face quickly turns the same shade as his hair. “I-If that’s okay with you, I mean,” he stammers.
Risotto holds his arms and spreads his legs a little wider, indicating where the senior should sit. Doppio’s blush only deepens as he wraps the thick jacket around them both. He settles into Risotto’s warmth with a soft sigh.
They fit together snugly. Risotto doesn’t even seem to mind the soggy sweater plastered to his side.
“I guess it’s my turn?”
Risotto takes a second to reply. “We’re still playing?”
“Why not?” Doppio chirps, poking him in the knee. “So, truth or dare?”
“Truth."
“Again?” The senior lets out an exaggerated sigh, his voice too fond to sound mean. “You really are boring, huh? Let’s see…” Doppio sniffles, subconsciously scooting closer to Risotto to ward off the chills. “Do you have a crush on anyone?”
Risotto stiffens behind him.
Doppio looks up at Risotto’s inscrutable face. He doesn’t quite understand the expression, but it looks… conflicted? How interesting.
Could it mean—?
Before he can poke Risotto again for an answer, he sees the other give the most imperceptible of nods. Almost immediately, Doppio fires off a barrage of questions.
“You do?! Are they cute? Which year? Ooh, do I know them?” He taps a finger against his chin, giggling to himself. “Haha, what if it was me?”
Doppio snuggles closer to Risotto as his questions grow, getting more comfortable in contrast to the other becoming increasingly more flustered. Risotto is usually hard to read, keeping a solid poker face and being overall an intimidating figure. But now? Doppio is starting to get a better read on his junior the more time they spend together. He can tell Risotto wants to hide whoever he has a crush on.
He needn’t worry, though- Doppio won’t judge!
In fact, he thinks it’s a good thing that the socially awkward Risotto is taking an interest in others. Like a baby bird finally leaving the nest. Doppio is fully prepared to fight this mysterious crush if they turn down such a cute- such a great guy!
Although… Doppio would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel even a little bit jealous. Dating means less time for Risotto to spend with him! Risotto wouldn’t be there by the bleachers for him when he needs to get away for a bit— not if he started dating. They wouldn’t stop being friends, but Doppio doesn’t want to third-wheel either.
His formerly happy thoughts quickly trickle into loneliness; he shivers again. He can’t even imagine Risotto hanging out with someone that wasn’t Dop—
“—pio,” Risotto’s deep voice breaks him out of his thoughts.
“Huh— what?” Doppio answers, startled.
“You just stopped talking; didn’t respond when I called you. What’s on your mind?”
“Oh, nothing much,” he shrugs, mouth moving before his brain can catch up. “Who’s your crush?”
Crap— now it looks like the junior really doesn’t want to tell him. Maybe Doppio pushed it too far. To be honest, he doesn’t even want to hear the answer anyway. Not when it’ll only hurt him.
Before he can blurt out an apology, he hears Risotto mumble something.
“What was that?” Doppio turns around to look at the junior. “I couldn’t hear you very well— what’d you say?”
Risotto’s usually pale face turns a rosy shade. He avoids eye contact with Doppio. “—you.” He says, very fast and very quietly, to the point where Doppio’s straining to hear again.
Is the rain just too loud? Is his hearing already going? “Ah… once more?” Doppio requests, a sheepish grin spreading over his face. “Sorry. Really.”
A beat. A sigh. A… blush? Is Doppio imagining that last part?
“It’s you.” Risotto repeats. This time, his voice is firm- one hundred percent sure of himself.
Cotton-padded confusion fills Doppio’s head, clouding his thoughts. Then it hits him, the realization akin to standing in a downpour.
Risotto smiles, a small, beautiful thing. “I like you.”
Oh.
Doppio blushes all the way to the roots of his hair. His thoughts catch up to him in a rush, leaving him feeling warm all over. Trying to hide his flustered state, he tugs up the edges of the jacket to hide his beet red face- forgetting that it’s also wrapped around Risotto. He ducks his head down as Risotto is accidentally pulled closer to him, now flush against Doppio’s back.
Oh my god.
Doppio squeezes his eyes shut and nearly stops breathing.
Risotto liked… him?
His heart races in his chest, twice as fast as it should be; like it would leap out of his chest, take flight at a moment’s notice. Is Risotto’s heart beating as erratically as his? He almost can’t believe it.
“How long are we going to stay like this?” Risotto’s voice grates out, right next to his ear. The rumbling sound sends chills down Doppio’s spine.
“Oh, um— sorry!” Doppio squeaks, releasing his tight grip on the jacket binding them together.
Despite being free, Risotto doesn’t move away. He’s still so close to Doppio- not an inch between them. It’s like standing right beside a campfire, the blazing heat in the air just as hot as the flames.
Doppio is no longer cold and shivering.
‘I like you’, the other had said, bashful and smiling, but so, so sure. An answer is clearly expected to a confession like that, but… Doppio’s not sure if he can give a satisfactory one. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t reciprocate those fluttering, blush-pink feelings, even a little bit.
Spending time with the handsome junior always made Doppio happy; seeing him during the day regularly brought a smile to his face. An easy decision, then. He knows what he wants.
Doppio had made up his mind. “Risotto, I—!” He finds himself screwing his eyes shut and leaning up, vaguely aware of where Risotto’s face is. Doppio has no idea where this burst of courage is coming from, but he’s going for it!
His lips meet… something. It doesn’t feel as soft as he was expecting it to be. Actually, there was a little bit of… resistance? Doppio opens his eyes upon hearing a deep, resounding laugh.
“I got your answer, loud and clear,” Risotto teases, his hand covering Doppio’s mouth and separating their lips. “But do you mind if I take you on a date first?”
Doppio sincerely hopes that the heat flushing his face can’t be felt through the junior's calloused hand. He’s secretly pleased to notice Risotto’s ears were darkly tinted with red as well.
Good, they’re both a mess. At least they’re on the same page.
“Where were you planning on taking me?” Doppio asks, accepting that he’d been too hasty. He sunk back into Risotto’s large frame.
“Somewhere nice for dinner. We can walk around town or go to a park after.” Risotto describes his ideal date in detail, hands settling on Doppio’s hips.
“I didn’t know you were such a romantic,” Doppio jokes, his smile only growing wider. He smothers a yawn and stretches out, turning away from Risotto. “Guess we’re boyfriends now, then?”
“If that’s what you want to call it,” Risotto says, resting his chin on Doppio’s head. “And that’s okay with you?”
“I’m more than okay with that.” Doppio grins drowsily, comfortable in the other’s arms. “Wake me up when the rain stops?”
Risotto hums in acknowledgement, watching the other lull off to sleep. Careful not to wake Doppio, he carefully removes the jacket and drapes it over the senior’s shoulders- surrendering the jacket completely. Like he said, he’s truly unbothered by the cold- especially with the storm starting to lighten up.
Tentatively, he wraps his arms around Doppio’s sleeping form in front of him. Risotto almost feels like he’s dreaming.
Risotto shoots up in bed, forehead drenched with sweat.
It was all a…?
His fingers curl around empty air, reaching for something that isn’t there. His mouth feels bone dry. Slowly, mechanically, he reaches over to his nightstand- turns off his alarm.
What time is it?
Risotto throws a glance at the clock on the wall. 10:57.
Late. He’s late for class. Risotto blinks once, twice, scrubs a hand over his face, and falls back into bed. Something small and fragile sits heavy in his chest, cutting him with its jagged edges each time he breathes. He almost wants to cry.
He pulls the covers over his head.
2:32.
Truth be told, he hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. Not with that dream—and was it really a dream, if it felt so real? —playing on repeat in his mind. Doppio’s freckled blush, a leather jacket for two, a shared kiss beneath the overhang. Risotto stews in his misery. How pathetic must he be, to dream of Doppio like some schoolgirl with a crush? For certain, it was a dream- in real life he’d sooner cough up a lung before saying those three dreaded words to Doppio.
And still, and still…
Risotto wouldn’t mind sleeping forever, if he could make that dream world reality.
Ring!
He jerks at the sudden noise, getting tangled up in his sheets and falling to the ground. Risotto barely holds in a groan as his lip smacks into the floor.
Ring!
Ugh, who rings the doorbell twice? A rapid series of knocks follows, light and quick.
“Give me a second!” Risotto hollers, rushing to find a clean pair of pants. Sweatpants? No, there’s still a big stain from that burrito he dropped on it. Shorts? Double no, there’s a huge rip in a very inconvenient place. Jeans? He gives them a quick whiff, deems them ‘good enough’, and shimmies into them.
The corner of the table assaults his hip on the way there, but Risotto finally manages to reach the door. He flings open the door to catch a sight of…
Pink hair.
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
Please be Carne, please be Carne— Risotto practically prays, trailing his eyes downward with a sense of foreboding. A freckled, dimpled grin is what greets him.
“Well, there’s the resident delinquent! Skipping school— what’s gotten into you?” Doppio chirps, shouldering his way inside the dorm. “Your favorite senior came to check up on you!”
Risotto stands frozen at the doorway, not even turning around as Doppio starts rummaging through his stuff.
“Are you sick? Your eyes are a little red, have you got the sniffles?” His voice is undercut with the crinkling of plastic. Then a sound of disgust. “Ugh, taco-flavored Hot Pockets? Don’t tell me you actually eat this crap; everyone knows pepperoni is the way to go.”
Risotto can only stare in a stunned silence. Doppio eventually looks over at him again, only to quickly dart his eyes away.
The senior politely coughs. “Also, um… were you planning on putting a shirt on anytime soon?”
A sh-?
Risotto’s hands fly to his naked chest to preserve what little dignity he has left. “I- uh, yeah, getting right on that. Thank you, for,” he spits out, words a jumble on his tongue. “Reminding me.”
Doppio snags his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to not burst out in laughter.
Risotto thinks he might be a good addition to the track team, with how fast he sprints back to his room. He shuts the door behind him and leans against it, sliding down with a gasp of relief. God, why is Doppio here? Better yet, why was he in Risotto’s dream? Hell, this might be a dream too- maybe any minute now, he’ll get to wake up for a third time.
“I’m gonna use your bathroom, is that okay?!” Doppio hollers from outside.
“Go ahead!” He yells back. Okay. This is good. This means he has some time. Risotto stands up with a renewed vigor, tearing through his dresser for something to wear. A pile of shirts quickly amass on his bed.
Too wrinkled, too formal, too small, smells god-awful; he resorts to donning his college hoodie, something that’s been collecting dust in his closet ever since he got it. Staggering back into the main living area, he finds Doppio perched on the sofa. Two steaming cups of tea are set out on the coffee table.
“It’s peppermint,” Doppio says, waving him over. “Should help with your cold.”
Risotto stiffly walks over, taking a seat opposite to the other. The warmth from the mug helps soothe the tremors in his hands. They sit there quietly for a moment, sipping tea and listening to the pitter-patter of the rain against the window.
Wait, rain—?
“Alright, out with it. What’s bothering you?” Doppio questions, interrupting his near-freakout over the current weather. The senior glances at him expectantly.
“Nothin’.” Risotto grumbles, drinking too much in one go. Fuck, that’s hot.
The other leans over the table, setting a hand on Risotto’s knee. It takes all he has not to spill peppermint tea all over his jeans.
“I know how much you care about your grades—a lot more than me, that’s for sure—so you wouldn’t miss a class for ‘nothing’. And didn’t you tell me last week you were doing that cool lab experiment today? The way you were talking about it, I thought you wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Doppio’s smile is fond, but a twinge of concern stands out in his expression.
Or is Risotto just imagining all those things?
“I didn’t talk about it that much,” he protests, once again bringing up his mug to cover his face. He’s much too big to ever be hidden by a teacup, he knows, but it helps.
The senior laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners with joy. “The fact that you talked about the lab at all tells me you were over the moon about it.”
Risotto would melt into some kind of invisible puddle if he could. He settles for rolling his eyes. “You really want to know?”
“I’m naturally curious, what can I say?” Doppio leans back against the couch. “But if you really don’t feel like telling me, I’ll drop it.”
He sighs. “It’s fine. I just…” It’s not a big deal. Really, it’s just the combination of his terrible sleep schedule and his disgusting pining that led him to this place. “I had a dream.”
“Not a good one, I take it?”
“No, it was— it was good.” Too good to be true. Too good to wake up from and not feel something missing.
“Then what’s wrong?”
Risotto tips back his cup, the dregs leaving a bitter aftertaste. “You were there, you know? Just you and me, on a normal, rainy day like this.” The words spill out like mud, thick on his tongue and tasting of dirt. “We were playing Truth or Dare—nothing else to do—and I made you take a lap around the building.” He smiles at a memory that doesn’t exist.
“Oh, really? Then what happened?” Doppio chuckles, listening attentively. His undivided attention is on Risotto, like when he’d asked him, ‘Truth or Dare?’ and all Risotto could say was truth, truth, truth. ‘Boring’, dream-Doppio had called him.
He’s not boring, but he isn’t brave either.
“You got drenched, obviously.” Risotto closes his eyes. “I offered you my jacket.”
“What a gentleman. Which jacket was it?”
“The leather one— the one that gave you the first impression that I was in a biker gang.”
Doppio snorts. “Yeah, I can picture that. So what, I just left you out in the rain? Dream-me is so petty.”
“No,” Risotto hums, remembering the ensuing argument. “You convinced me that we could share.”
They’d fit perfectly together, but he doesn’t mention that. Or the fact that he wouldn’t mind holding Doppio like that again.
“And then you asked me…” He trails off, uncertain if he should continue. The Doppio in his dream had reciprocated, but of course he had- he was a figment of Risotto’s imagination. What if this Doppio- the real Doppio- doesn’t feel the same? Dreams aren’t reality. They’re the furthest thing from it.
“Asked what?” Doppio says, blinking up at him. His long lashes flutter against freckled cheeks, eyes filled with puzzled wonder.
Risotto swallows. He wouldn’t say that he’s got enough courage to admit what the dream was honestly about. But then again…
He doesn’t have enough fear to keep his mouth shut.
“You asked me if I had a crush on someone. I told you,” he inhales sharply, biting the inside of his cheek. This is his last chance to back out. To put this dream to rest.
Fuck that. Reality can be whatever he wants.
“I told you that I like you. And I do.”
The rainfall continues outside; for a moment, it’s the only sound he can hear. Then a strangled squeak.
“You—! I—!” Doppio stammers, blushing as profusely as in his dream. Maybe even redder. The senior’s teacup lays knocked over on the table, peppermint tea pooling on the surface. “C-Could you repeat that?”
Risotto’s face darkens in embarrassment, the back of his neck feeling hot. “...I like you.”
“Aha, I must have something stuck in my ears! Would you mind, um-?”
He surges forwards until there’s a hair’s breadth of distance between them. Noses brushing, Risotto speaks low and quiet. “I. Like. You. If you have me repeat it one more time, I’ll be quite angry.”
Doppio starts to speak but moves too fast, knocking their heads together. The senior falls back against the couch with a groan.
Risotto presses a hand to his own head, biting back a wince. “I won’t actually be mad- god, sorry, are you okay?”
“Fine, I’m fine!” Doppio sits back up quickly, posture impossibly straight. He twists his fingers together, gaze skittering across the floor. “So you—?”
“I do,” Risotto affirms, righting the fallen teacup. “If you need some time to think about it, I understand. You’re not obligated to give me an answer right away. We can still be friends- you won’t lose me if you say no.”
“And what if I don’t want to be friends?”
His thoughts grind to a halt. Would that really—?
Doppio reaches towards him, plucking at the sleeve of his sweater. “What if I wanted to get stuck in the rain together, or play Truth or Dare, or share the same jacket? What if I wanted to fall asleep next to you?”
Risotto can barely breathe. “Then I’d say I want those things too,” he croaks.
“Good.”
“Yeah?”
Doppio gets up and walks around the coffee table, sitting down next to him. One hand cups Risotto’s face, the other sliding around his neck, pulling his head down—
“Wait,” Risotto says. “I told the you in my dream that I wanted to take you on a date first.”
The look Doppio gives him is utterly unimpressed. “If you don’t kiss me right now, I’ll make you run a lap in the rain.”
Well, there’s that. This time they don’t pause, don’t stop gravitating towards each other until their lips meet.
Risotto pinches himself just to make sure.