Archive of Our Own

i.

Kojiro likes to think he’s a pretty decent skater.

Of course he isn’t quite on the same level as Kaoru and Adam - and that’s fine - but he likes to think he’s pretty good and just skating next to two near prodigies.

That doesn’t make skating Crazy Rock any easier, though. He has yet to skate the whole way through without bailing, though it would be a whole lot more frustrating if Kaoru weren’t in the same boat.

In their defense, most of their attempts aren’t simply skating the course alone so they can try to make it through successfully. Adam’s skated it through on his own, and Kojiro is sure that if he and Kaoru took the course on without the other at their side, they would’ve made it through successfully by this point too.

But no. Kojiro and Kaoru almost always skate the course together, which has only ever ended in disaster. Either one of them manages to distract the other, one of them knocks the other off their board, or they straight up crash into each other and both go tumbling.

And for some reason, neither of them can bring themselves to leave the other in the dust if they fall.

Adam snarks at them for it - he’s got no issue leaving anyone behind on the course - but he isn’t them. He hasn’t known Kaoru since kindergarten, and he can’t feel the unspoken agreement they’ve come to:

They’re going to complete their first successful Crazy Rock run together.

There’s no real reason for it, but it feels right. They’ve done everything together, so it feels fitting that this milestone happens together too.

Which means Kojiro will ram his board into Kaoru’s and cackle when Kaoru bails, but then he’ll stop his own board and go help him right back up. And Kaoru will know exactly what to say to distract Kojiro enough that he loses his balance, but he’ll stop as soon as he hears the crash and help Kojiro to his feet.

Kojiro won’t think too hard about it. It’s safer that way.

“You’d get through the course faster if you didn’t have such bleeding hearts,” Adam calls out as he approaches them.

“I’ll show you bleeding heart,” Kaoru grumbles. He kicks his skateboard right into Adam’s path at the last minute, and Adam goes tumbling.

Kojiro and Kaoru both break out in fits of laughter as Adam glares up at them. He stands back up and brushes the dirt from his clothes. “You’re both menaces.”

Kaoru curtsies. “Only for you.”

Adam’s eyes widen, briefly, before he settles into an easy smirk. “Well in that case, I suppose it’s okay.”

Kojiro pushes down the feeling bubbling up in his gut that is definitely not jealousy. He looks up at the sky, locating the moon and trying to remember where it was when they first got here.

“We’ve still got another hour before we need to head back,” Kaoru says, as if reading his mind. Kaoru taught himself how to tell time with the moon while procrastinating homework, and he tried to teach Kojiro as well, but it’s a lot of memorization that just never stuck for Kojiro.

He has no doubt Kaoru’s timing is accurate, though. It’s never been wrong before. Not that Kojiro would ever admit that out loud - Kaoru doesn’t need the ego boost.

Kojiro looks back over at Kaoru. “Wanna run it again?”

Kaoru grins. “Don’t get so distracted this time, and maybe we’ll make it.”

“Don’t distract me and I won’t,” Kojiro shoots back.

Adam groans and rolls his eyes. “Count me out. I’d like to actually skate through the warehouse tonight.” He gets back on his board and continues down the course without waiting for a response.

Kaoru shakes his head, but he has a fond smile on his face that makes Kojiro’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

--

“I’m not stopping for you this time,” Kaoru says once they’re back at the starting line. Anyone who didn’t know him would think he was telling the truth, but Kojiro knows better.

(He also knows not to tempt fate by calling Kaoru out on his fib.)

“Then I’m not stopping for you either.”

Kaoru raises an eyebrow at him, silently telling Kojiro that he’s a terrible liar. Which isn’t entirely true - Kojiro wants Kaoru to know that wasn’t the truth. He can be good at lying when he needs to be. He can be good at lying when it’s telling himself he doesn’t hate how close Kaoru has gotten with Adam in such little time, and when it’s telling himself his jealousy is unfounded and irrational and has no deeper meaning.

“Bleeding heart,” Kaoru sneers.

“Oh, so you’re parroting your boyfriend’s insults because you can’t come up with any good ones of your own now?” It comes out harsher than Kojiro means for it to.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” Kaoru spits back.

“I’m not jealous!”

“Well you sure sound like it. And you look like it, too. It’s written all over your face whenever the three of us are together.”

Kojiro’s heart seizes, momentarily, terrified that Kaoru has found him out and maybe he actually means the whole not stopping for him thing, until--

“I can’t control Adam anymore than you can, and it’s not my fault he doesn’t reciprocate your weird little crush on him.”

What?

Kojiro’s so shocked at Kaoru’s misinterpretation of the situation that it startles a laugh out of him. “You’re right about a lot of things, Kaoru, but you’re wrong about this.” He readies his board. “We’re making it this time, yeah?”

“I’m making it this time.”

They throw their boards down in unison, zipping down the track.

Kaoru starts playing dirty as soon as they’re around the first turn, but Kojiro is ready for it. As soon as he’d realized how the boyfriend comment had landed, he mentally prepared himself for skating with a mean Kaoru rather than just a stubborn one.

He strays far enough away from Kaoru that he can’t do much, but sticks close enough that there’s no chance of them losing each other.

Unless one bails and the other doesn’t stop.

“Scared?” Kaoru calls over his shoulder.

“I could never be scared of you, princess. I’m just biding my time.”

“Sounds like something a loser would say,” Kaoru shoots back as he rounds the next corner at a dangerous speed.

Kojiro pushes faster, not wanting to risk being left behind.

Kaoru smiles, and it’s halfway to something genuine, when Kojiro catches up with him. “There we go. That’s more like it.”

“Aww, I didn’t know you missed me that much.”

Kaoru opens his mouth, but he snaps it back shut before anything comes out. Something odd flickers in his eyes, illuminated by the light of the full moon, and then he’s shifting his weight so his board is right up against Kojiro’s.

“You’d miss me more than I’d ever miss you, and we both know it,” he hisses, taking his eyes off the track in front of them to look at Kojiro.

He can see in Kaoru’s eyes that it’s a lie.

But he’s so caught off guard by that realization that he misses the fact that they’re coming up on another turn until Kaoru’s hands are on his arms and he’s hooking his board with Kojiro’s in a way that allows him to guide them both around it.

“Pay attention, idiot,” he grumbles once they’re around the turn.

Kojiro blinks, his mind not even bothering to supply him with the suggestion of biting back with an insult. “Why’d you help me?”

Kaoru scoffs. “I told you. I’m making it to the finish this time.”

“Last time I checked, I doesn’t include more than just yourself.”

The something odd is back in Kaoru’s eyes as he gently pushes Kojiro away from him. He looks down. “You’re always included,” he says so softly that Kojiro almost misses it. He clears his throat, and then continues with his usual tone and volume. “Mess up again, and I won’t be so thoughtful.”

“Quit distracting me, and you wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“It’s part of the race, dimwit! Use any tricks you want if it helps you win. I could smack you in the face with my skateboard and leave you to die and I still wouldn’t be breaking any rules.”

“As if you could ever.”

“Believe me, it gets tempting sometimes.”

Kojiro laughs at that, because he doesn’t have a comeback and he knows that if Kaoru were to smack him in the face with a skateboard, he’d turn right around and clean the injuries himself.

The two of them are neck and neck and he glances over at Kaoru to see a smile spreading across his face until he’s giggling too.

The laughing fizzles out as they cross into the warehouse. They’ve made it this far plenty of times before, but this time feels different.

“Don’t fall!” Adam’s voice rings out, echoing through the empty near-darkness. They’ll have to bring more lights in here if Adam’s skating ring idea ever comes to fruition, but right now, the fact that he can’t see Adam is nice. It makes it feel like it’s just him and Kaoru here, racing through the lowlight, hearts beating in sync with each other--

It’s Kaoru & Kojiro, racing towards the finish line in tandem, as it always has been and always will be.

They’re going to make it.

Kojiro’s breath catches in his throat as the finish line comes into view, the two of them hurtling straight for it with nothing standing in their way--

Kojiro doesn’t catch which one of them actually makes it across the finish line first, but they do make it, and they make it together. He turns to Kaoru, expecting him to deliver the verdict of who won, but he’s met instead by a wild grin and Koaru jumping off his skateboard.

“We did it!” he cheers, balling his hands into fists and shaking them back and forth. He bounces on the balls of his feet, smile never wavering.

The sight of such blatant stimming warms Kojiro’s heart. Not because it’s cute, but because he knows Kaoru has guarded himself so much that he hardly ever stims like this if he isn’t alone.

And because apparently Kaoru isn’t done with surprises for the night, he throws his arms around Kojiro. By which Kojiro means, Kaoru practically throws himself into Kojiro’s arms and Kojiro catches him easily.

He doesn’t let himself think about how right it feels to have Kaoru in his arms.

“We did it,” Kojiro agrees, a grin stretching across his face as Kaoru’s fingers tap excitedly against his back.

Kaoru pulls back from the hug, but only enough that he can look at Kojiro. He’s still smiling widely, and his fingers pick back up with the tapping, though on Kojiro’s shoulders instead of his back now.

“After we turn Crazy Rock into some big skating arena, I’m challenging you to a real race,” Kaoru says. “First race once we fancy this place up and invite other people is going to be you and me, yeah?”

Kojiro laughs. “Of course. You and me.”

Kaoru bounces again, and Kojiro has never wanted to kiss him so badly--

Oh no.

Oh no--

Adam makes himself known then, and Kaoru pulls himself away from Kojiro. Kojiro can see him putting his guard back up as his smile falls into a smirk and the bouncing and hand shaking stop. But all Kojiro can really think about is the fact that he wants to kiss Kaoru.

And Kaoru is standing right next to him, starry-eyed over Adam.

ii.

Today is not a good day.

Kojiro has a big exam coming up, one he hasn’t done near enough studying for, and it’s all his own fault, but now the exam date is fast approaching and Kojiro can’t even get himself to start studying because it’s all so overwhelming. He’s been laying in bed all day, knowing he should start studying, but unable to bring himself to do so.

All he can think is I want to go home.

He hasn’t gotten homesick often while he’s been in Italy, but he’s pretty sure this is what homesickness really feels like. This heavy-stormy-gloomy-awful feeling that’s settled over him like a weighted blanket. He feels genuinely sick, like he can hardly move and all of his energy has been drained from his body.

He wants to go home.

He misses Naha. He misses his bedroom. He misses his mom cooking him dinner after he comes home from school. He misses skipping class and sneaking out late to skate. He misses having someone there to take care of him when he wasn’t up to taking care of himself.

He misses Kaoru.

He misses Kaoru most of all.

He wants to go home, but mostly, he wants to go back. He wants to replay his childhood from the beginning, do a few things different. Beg Kaoru to come to Italy with him and study here instead of in Tokyo. Tell Kaoru just how much he means to Kojiro and let him know that Kojiro doesn’t know how to live without him.

He’s fine in Italy.

But he’s also spent his entire time here feeling like he’s missing a limb.

He’s missing an integral part of his life - part of himself - and he wants to go home. He wants everything to go back to how it was before they graduated. Back when Kaoru would skate home with Kojiro and eat dinner with him and his mom, and they’d spend hours in Kojiro’s room doing homework that would have been done a lot quicker if they didn’t keep distracting each other.

He wants to go home, but home isn’t somewhere he can get to anymore, because the home he wants is a time that is past. Home is…

Home is Kaoru.

(And that’s scary.)

Home has always been Kaoru, really. Kojiro has always felt most at home when he’s by Kaoru’s side, and he wants to go home, but that really means he wants to curl up in his bed next to Kaoru like they’re ten years old having a sleepover. He wants Kaoru to flick his ear and then run a hand through his hair and tell him everything will be okay. He wants to not be here, throwing his life and his time and his money and everything he is at something that might not work out for him in the end.

What are the chances of Kojiro going back to Naha and starting a successful restaurant? What are they really? What are the chances his time in Italy will even be worth it?

Maybe he should have stayed in Japan like Kaoru. Maybe he should’ve just gone to university in Tokyo with him and studied something like business. Something that would actually get him a job.

It’s too late to turn back now, though, and he just wants to go home.

He wants time to stop moving, and then reverse itself. Go back to when things were easier. Be a kid again, before he felt like the entire world was falling apart around him and it’s his fault because why the hell did he think he was ready to be on his own, and in an entirely different country, no less? He’s not ready, he wants to go back, he wants to go--

His phone rings.

Kojiro groans. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now. He doesn’t want to be perceived right now. He wants everyone to forget he has ever existed so maybe he’ll be allowed to sink into his mattress and just stop.

He grabs his phone and answers without looking, expecting it to be his mom.

“Took you long enough,” Kaoru’s voice sneers through the phone speaker.

“Huh?” is the only thing that comes out of Kojiro’s mouth.

Kaoru is silent for a moment, and when he speaks again, his tone is much softer than before. “Are you alright? I can call back later if this is a bad time.”

Kojiro considers accepting the offer and having Kaoru call back later, but…

But now that he thinks about it, hearing Kaoru’s voice is nice.

“No,” he responds, voice rough from lack of use.

“No to which? Being okay or me calling back later?”

“Yes?”

Kaoru swears under his breath. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you hurt? Sick? Do you need--?”

Kojiro laughs, and he’s pretty sure this is the first time he’s smiled in the past several days. “Careful or I might start to think you’ve actually got a heart.”

“Tell me what’s wrong or I swear to God I’ll get on the first flight to Italy I can find and kill you myself.”

“That’s more like it.”

“Well?”

Kojiro sighs. He runs a hand through his hair and then lets it drop heavily on the bed next to him. “I want to go home.” It’s a pitiful explanation, but it’s the one thing Kojiro is most certain of right now. The one sentence his brain has looped on repeat whenever he tries to examine himself and figure out the root of the problem. The only thing his mind will offer is I want to go home.

“Why now?”

“...What?”

“You’ve been going to school there for three years and you’ve never mentioned getting homesick before. Why now?”

Kojiro shrugs even though Kaoru can’t see it. “It’s all just… I feel like everything’s piling up at once, and I’m almost done with my third year here, and I don’t know what’s going to happen afterwards, and I’ve got a big exam coming up that I can’t even bring myself to study for because I just keep sitting here thinking about how everything’s going to go wrong and I’m going to flunk out, and--”

“Kojiro,” Kaoru interrupts.

Kojiro stops talking.

“You aren’t going to flunk out.” There’s some sort of muffled white noise on the other end. “How about we study together? I’ll video call you, and we can pretend we’re back in your room in high school studying for some stupid math test.”

“We hardly got any studying done in high school,” Kojiro points out.

“Well we got more done than you’re getting done sulking in your bed all day.”

Kojiro can’t argue with that, so he tries a different route. “What about your roommate? Won’t he get annoyed with the call?”

“Nope. He’s staying with his girlfriend tonight.”

“Wait.” Kojiro sits up. “What time is it there?” He doesn’t even know what time it is here, and his brain is too sluggish to do the mental math of time zone translation anyways.

Kaoru hesitates briefly, but Kojiro notices all the same. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Kaoru.”

“Kojiro.” They’re both silent for several moments before Kaoru sighs. “It’s eleven. But like I said, it doesn’t matter. I’ll stay up all night with you if you need me to. You’re more important to me than sleep.”

“Kaoru--”

“Don’t.”

Kaoru wins in the end, like he usually does. He ends the phone call and immediately video calls Kojiro back. He gets out his own textbooks while Kojiro shuffles through his papers, trying to figure out what he needs for this exam and what’s old stuff that he’s already been tested over.

Kaoru talks to Kojiro as he organizes his stuff, complaining about his roommate’s girlfriend who doesn’t seem to like him, and then complaining about the fact that he got stuck with a straight guy for a roommate.

“Why, you were hoping for a roommates-to-lovers romance?” Kojiro asks.

Kaoru scoffs. “I hate you.”

“I didn’t hear a denial.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” Kojiro responds without thinking.

“Believe me, if I could get on a plane to Italy and duct tape your mouth shut, I would.” He sighs melodramatically. “Unfortunately, I’m stuck here, so I have to resort to yelling at you to study through my phone.”

“I miss you too,” Kojiro responds, because he knows that’s what Kaoru really means.

Kaoru sighs. “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

“Oh, and what are you doing?” Kojiro glances over at his phone screen. Kaoru must have his phone sitting on his desk or bed or something because all he can see is the ceiling, and part of the wall. He can see the corner of one of Kaoru’s posters, and he’s not sure he wants to know what it says about him that he can tell exactly which one it is from what little he can see of it.

The top of Kaoru’s face comes into view and he holds a book up over his phone. “Studying.”

“Well I can’t see you, so I don’t have any proof.”

“You’re impossible,” Kaoru groans. But he shifts his phone so Kojiro can see that he is, in fact, sitting at his desk and appears to be studying. It’s hard to tell sometimes with Kaoru, though. He could be staring at a book and not taking in any of the words on the page because his mind has wandered to something completely different. He could look like he’s taking notes, and then you’ll look at the paper and find it’s full of doodles or calligraphy. “Better?”

“Much.”

Kaoru hums. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just wanted to look at my face.”

“Who says I don’t?”

Kojiro relishes in the pink flush that spreads across Kaoru’s cheeks. “Start studying or I’m going to hang up,” he grumbles.

Kojiro is pretty sure that’s a lie, but he knows that Kaoru is right. He should start studying. And it feels a little less overwhelming now that Kaoru’s (sort of) with him.

“Do you need help?” Kaoru asks when Kojiro doesn’t respond right away.

Kojiro shrugs. “Not much you can do through the phone.”

“Okay, well talk to me then,” Kaoru says. “Talk me through this exam you’re studying for - what sort of questions are going to be on it, what you need to do to prepare, what information you’re good with and what you still need to memorize. Saying it out loud will help you remember.”

“Won’t that distract you?”

Kaoru shakes his head. “I don’t need to do any of my work right now anyways. Talk me through your studying, and I’ll find something I can do while listening to you.”

“I mean…” Kojiro looks at the messy sprawl of books and notes across his desk, hardly knowing where to even begin. The overwhelming weight of what all he needs to do to prepare is starting to sink in again, and he’s wondering if maybe he should just tell Kaoru to go to bed and end the call.

There’s a clinking noise, and Kojiro looks back to the phone screen only to find that Kaoru has walked off camera. “What sort of questions are going to be on the exam?” He asks offscreen.

“Mostly multiple choice. So I guess if worst comes to worse, I have a 25% chance of guessing right.” Kojiro sighs and runs a hand through his hair, wincing at how greasy it feels. He needs to shower. “There’s a short answer section too. So I’ll just fail that portion.”

Kaoru clicks his tongue and his face appears back on the screen. “You’re not going to fail.”

“Well I’m not going to pass.”

“Not with that attitude.” He sits back down at his desk and adjusts his phone, and Kojiro notices he’s got a bottle of black nail polish in his hands now. He makes a gesture for Kojiro to continue speaking. “So, short answer and multiple choice. How many of each?”

“Fifty multiple choice and ten short answer questions.”

“Alright. Walk me through the earliest section of stuff that’s going to be on the test. We’ll start at the beginning and work our way through to the end.”

“When did you become the studying expert?”

“Well I can’t very well flunk out of university. My dad would kill me - possibly quite literally. And besides,” Kaoru waves vaguely, “if I flunk out, I’ll be stuck living with my parents for the rest of my life, and we both know why that can’t happen.”

Yeah. Kojiro remembers all too well the night Kaoru came out to him, breaking down into tears because of how his family would react if they were to find out.

Kaoru snaps his fingers, startling Kojiro back into the present. “Start explaining before I get bored and hang up.”

So Kojiro starts talking Kaoru through the basics of each chapter the exam is going to cover while Kaoru paints his nails. Kaoru stops him whenever he tries to brush over a topic he doesn’t quite understand and makes him look up the information to explain it better.

After Kaoru’s finished painting his nails, he disappears and returns with eyeliner. He must have a mirror on his desk, because he fixes his gaze off camera as he starts to apply it. And Kojiro might get a little distracted watching him. Maybe.

“Why’d you stop talking?” Kaoru asks, turning his gaze back to his phone.

Kojiro clears his throat. “Just confused about why you’re putting makeup on in the middle of the night.”

“I’m practicing. How does it look?”

He’s only done one eye so far, but it looks good. Kaoru has always looked pretty, but this is making Kojiro’s brain short circuit. Very much not helpful while he’s supposed to be studying.

“It looks… good.”

Kaoru frowns, glancing back over at where his mirror must be. “Just good?”

“Apologies, your highness. It looks stunning, and I’ve never seen anyone put on eyeliner as well as you do.” Kojiro hopes his sarcastic tone covers up any truth in the statement. “You look beautiful, and I’m sure you’ll have hoards of men falling at your feet if you ever decide to do your makeup at a time when people will actually see it.”

“People are actually seeing this!” Kaoru argues, turning away from the camera so Kojiro can’t tell if he’s blushing or if it’s just the light. “Well. One person is actually seeing this, and he’s the only one I’d ever ask about their opinion on my appearance.”

“Got a secret boyfriend I don’t know about?” Kojiro asks, because there’s no way Kaoru just admitted to his face that he values Kojiro’s opinion on anything, much less how he looks.

“Maybe you are going to fail this exam if you’ve got rocks instead of a brain up in that thick skull of yours.”

“Since when have you cared about my opinion on anything?”

“Why did you think I asked you what you thought before we did my first ear piercing?!”

“Because I was the only one you could get to do it for you.”

“Because I care what you think, stupid!” Kaoru sits back in his seat with a heavy sigh, refusing to meet Kojiro’s eyes through the video call.

“I really do think the eyeliner looks nice,” Kojiro says honestly, still stunned by Kaoru’s confession. “The nail polish too, if you were wondering.”

Kaoru glances up. “Really?”

“I always think you look nice, Kaoru.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles like Kojiro can’t see the soft smile that spreads across his face. “Go back to telling me about food safety. Gotta make sure you aren’t gonna cross-contaminate any food you make for me.”

“We both know I’m more careful about your allergies than you are.”

“Well then teach me how to be better about them, Chef-sensei.”

“I’m not a chef.”

“You’re not a chef yet,” Kaoru corrects as he turns back to his mirror to do the eyeliner on his other eye. “But you will be, and you’ll be the best damn chef Okinawa’s ever seen.”

iii.

S is electric tonight, and Joe is thriving.

It’s the first night in weeks they’ve even been able to hold it, with the seemingly endless rain, and now that S is finally back up and running, it seems like everyone who’s ever come is here tonight. The schedule is packed with races that had been postponed due to weather, and Joe is ready to sit back and watch it all unfold.

He and Cherry show up together and Joe relishes in the fans screaming their names. Cherry keeps his face expressionless as always, helped out by his mask, while Joe waves and blows kisses to the crowd.

“You’re disgusting,” Cherry grumbles.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Joe winks at Cherry, who rolls his eyes and flips him off. “Anyway, what’s the status on tonight’s beefs?”

“Carla, give me the highlighted races for tonight.”

Carla lights up. “First race: Shadow vs. Lioness. Fourth race: Jacques vs. Miya. Fifth race: Cherry Blossom vs. Ninja.”

Joe nearly chokes on his own spit, completely ignoring the rest of what Carla says. “Ninja?” he asks. “Isn’t that the guy you totally hooked up with?”

Before Joe can even register what’s happening, he’s flat on his back on the ground and Cherry has a foot on his chest. A gasp ripples through the crowd, and then faraway murmuring that Joe assumes is questioning why Cherry flipped him onto the ground.

He blinks up at Cherry, his vision swimming both from the sudden fall and the collision of his head against the dirt.

“Not here,” he growls. That’s all he offers before he stalks off, leaving Joe to pick himself up.

Okay, that’s fair. He deserved that one, and he probably should have seen it coming.

Kaoru likes keeping his personal life separate from his S persona - even if Ninja is someone he met at S - and Kaoru never wants to talk about relationships anyways. Which is fine with Joe - he doesn’t want to hear about Kaoru’s dalliances with romance that will never involve him. They have the lines that they don’t cross, and relationships are on the other side of the line.

It’s probably easier that way.

--

He doesn’t see Cherry again until he’s crossing the finish line several seconds ahead of Ninja. He bows gracefully to the crowd cheering for him, but he freezes when he straightens up and catches Joe’s eye.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. Ninja crosses the finish line just as Cherry picks up his board and tucks it under his arm. Joe expects him to walk the opposite direction, but instead, Cherry marches right up to him.

“What are you doing?”

Joe blinks. “What am I--? What?”

Annoyance flashes through Cherry’s eyes, but Joe really has no idea why he’s picking this fight right now. Until Cherry tacks on, quite loudly, “We’re racing next week. I need some actual competition. That was ridiculous.” He throws a glance back towards Ninja, who just flips Cherry off before disappearing into the crowd.

“Oh so I’m a challenge now?” Joe responds, rising to the bait, because he gets it. Skating against anyone is fun, but skating against Cherry satiates a desire no other beef can. And it’s been so long since they’ve raced against each other. “You’re always telling me I’m no good.”

“You don’t need the ego boost. I mean look at you, sucking up attention from anyone who will offer it to you regardless of how sincere their words are.”

“Sounds like you’re jealous to me.”

Cherry scoffs. “Jealous of what? The whole,” he gestures to Joe vaguely, “no shirt to show off your muscles just for a few shallow compliments thing?”

“I don’t know.” He flexes an arm and smirks at Cherry. “You’re the one who’s always bringing up my muscles.”

The tips of Cherry’s ears go pink, and Joe is pretty sure that under his mask, his cheeks match. It’s a shame he can’t see for sure.

“I’m plenty strong, thank you very much.”

Joe raises an eyebrow. “Plenty strong? Sure. But not stronger than me.”

“I could lift you without breaking a sweat.”

Joe laughs. “Really? C’mon, Cherry, we both know--”

And then Joe is suddenly not on the ground. His hands fly to Cherry’s shoulders on instinct as a broken, “Kaoru--?” makes its way out of his mouth.

Cherry’s arms are wrapped around his legs, hoisting him up off the ground, and he’s looking at Joe like he’s annoyed rather than like he’s struggling under Joe’s weight.

It’s kind of really super hot.

“You said I wouldn’t be able to lift you.”

And God, Joe wishes his costume came with a mask now too because he doesn’t want to know what he must look like, staring down at Cherry right now. He can hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest, and he thinks probably everyone else at S can hear it too. His eyes are wide and his face is hot. He read somewhere once that your pupils dilate when you look at something you like, and if that’s true, his pupils must be about as big as his irises.

“You’ve proven your point,” Joe says, his voice cracking embarrassingly.

“Relax.” There’s a glint in Cherry’s eyes that tells Joe he’s smirking under the mask. “I’m not going to drop you.”

That is not at all why Joe is reacting the way that he is, but he absolutely cannot confess that Cherry lifting him up like this is very much doing it for him and if he wasn’t already head over heels for him, this would absolutely seal the deal. So he keeps his mouth sealed tightly shut and his eyes trained on Cherry’s face and he absolutely does not think about how much he wants to kiss him. He does not think about how easy it would be to close the distance between them and how nice it would feel and--

Cherry’s fingers dig deeper into Joe’s legs. “I won’t lie, you’re heavier than I thought,” he admits. And then, just as suddenly as he was off the ground, Joe’s feet are back on the earth and Cherry’s hands are gone from him, though he can still feel the points of contact burning from his touch.

Joe’s brain is still pretty incapable of forming a coherent thought. The only coherent thought bouncing around in his mind right now is Holy shit.

But can anyone blame him?

“No comeback?” Cherry tuts. “Boring.” He turns away, flicking his ponytail over his shoulder and hitting Joe in the face with it. “Next week. You and me. Loser has to admit the other is stronger.”

With that, he walks into the crowd, waving at a couple of girls who start cheering for him.

Joe runs a hand through his hair and lets out a shaky breath. Cherry is going to kill him, and he’s going to let it happen. Of all the ways to die, death by Kaoru is definitely at the top of Joe’s list of preferred ways to go out.

“That was so hot,” one of Cherry’s fangirls cries out. “Can you do that to me?”

For what might be the first time ever, Cherry actually stops and responds. “Sorry,” he says, casting a glance back at Joe. “I’m only into lifting people up if I’m putting them in their place.”

(But the look in his eyes says I’d never touch anyone like that except you.)

Later that evening, when they’re both wine drunk at Sia La Luce, Kaoru admits that nothing ever happened between him and Ninja, despite the rumors that have been flitting around S. They left S early together once, but Kaoru couldn’t go any farther than that because it felt wrong being with someone he wasn’t friends with.

And Kojiro thinks something about that feels familiar. If he were to ever want a serious relationship, it wouldn’t work unless he was friends with the other person first.

Or maybe he’s just incapable of imagining himself in a serious relationship with anyone besides Kaoru.

iv.

If you’d told Kojiro a year ago that he’d end up co-pseudo-adopting three teenagers with Kaoru and Shadow, he would have laughed in your face.

But life doesn’t always work out the way you expect it to.

Reki swears as he falls off his board, and Joe winces in sympathy as Langa rushes over to make sure he’s okay.

“Hey,” Cherry says softly, nudging Joe’s leg with his foot.

Joe looks over and raises an eyebrow. Cherry isn’t usually this gentle, not at S.

“Do you remember when Adam taught us that trick?”

Joe glances back over at the kids. Miya and Reki are trying to master the Casper slide at the corners trick, and they haven’t been having all that much success. Miya got it once, but they haven’t gotten it again since.

He does remember Adam pulling that trick out against him and Cherry, and then trying to teach them afterwards. They both got it, but it’s been so long since Joe’s done it that he’s not sure he still could. It just doesn’t fit with his skating style and the persona he’s created, and he never got it down well enough to rely on it in a beef.

Cherry hasn’t done it in years either, but for entirely different reasons. The first time he did the trick on Carla, it scuffed up something and messed with the wiring, and it took weeks for Cherry to fix her. As far as Joe knows, he hasn’t tried that particular trick on Carla since.

“Yeah,” he responds. “Can’t say we were any better than they are in the beginning. Can’t say I could still do it now, either.”

Cherry laughs, and it’s magical and musical and beautiful. Joe wishes he would laugh more. “I think you could,” he says, and it sounds terrifyingly sincere.

“What’s got you so sappy tonight?”

Cherry finally meets his eyes and tilts his head. His expression is harder to read with the mask, but Joe’s known him for long enough to know Cherry’s got an answer to that question he isn’t willing to share yet. What he does say is, “I guess watching the kids has me feeling nostalgic.”

Joe smirks. “Think you could do the slide around the corner?”

“Not on Carla.”

“Borrow my board.”

Before Cherry can respond, Miya is shouting, “Yeah, Cherry! Show us how it’s done!”

“You have Langa for that.”

“I want to see you do it too,” Langa says, and Joe knows that Cherry isn’t going to get out of this. Either he agrees now, or Shadow will come in with a What, are you scared? and Cherry can’t walk away from that.

Cherry rolls his eyes, but he nudges Carla over towards Joe before taking Joe’s board out of his hands and walking to where the kids have been practicing.

“Better have Joe hide Carla’s eyes so she doesn’t know you’re cheating on her,” Shadow calls out.

Cherry flips him off before turning to the kids. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” he says.

“Should I get my phone out to film in case you fall?” Miya asks.

Cherry glares at them. “I’ll break your phone in half.” And then he’s throwing Joe’s board on the ground and skating towards the turn. The kids all break out into shouts of encouragement, but all Joe can really think about is how good Cherry looks skating on his board.

Cherry always looks good when he’s skating (Cherry always looks good, full stop), but there’s something different when he’s on the board Joe’s been using for years, maneuvering it as easily as if it were his own. It’s not really all that different from the boards they had when they were first learning to skate, so it makes sense that Cherry would be comfortable on it, but…

But sharing skateboards feels weirdly intimate.

Cherry reaches the corner and flips the board with his feet, hooking one foot underneath the board while the other rests on the top, and brings it down on the inside of the corner, skidding around it. He flips the board back over and lands before turning himself sideways to pull to a stop right in front of Joe.

There’s a glint in his eyes that Joe hasn’t seen in quite some time, and once he’s off the board, he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Your turn?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

And Joe figures Why not? The first race isn’t scheduled to start for another half hour yet, and Cherry’s got him feeling a little nostalgic too.

Cherry walks him over to where the kids are, and Miya is instantly on him asking how he made it look so easy if he hasn’t done it in so long.

Cherry shrugs. “Muscle memory, I suppose.”

“But not even on your own board!” Reki exclaims. “How’d you manage to find your balance on an unfamiliar board that quickly?”

“I used to have one that was similar,” he waves Reki’s question aside. “Carla doesn’t agree with Casper Slides, and I originally learned the trick on one of my old boards anyway.”

“Wow.” Reki sighs dreamily.

“You gonna show off for us too?” Shadow asks Joe.

He rolls his shoulder. “I’m going to try.”

“Can I film you falling?” Miya asks, already pulling their phone from their pocket.

Joe shrugs. “I’m not embarrassed to admit that I’m human.” He glances at Cherry, who rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

But then Cherry’s hand is on his arm, and he’s leaning in and whispering, “I believe in you. It’s all muscle memory.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I was never quite as good at it as you and Adam.”

Cherry shakes his head. “You weren’t as confident as Adam and I were. You’ve grown. Don’t doubt yourself, or you will fall.”

“Showing off your bleeding heart tonight, I see.”

Joe thinks he’s overstepped for a moment with that comment, because Cherry goes stock-still. But then he says, “I’ll show you bleeding heart.”

Instead of knocking Joe over like he’d been expecting, Cherry takes one of Joe’s hands in his and raises it to his lips. It can’t exactly be called a kiss, because Cherry’s mask is on, so it’s more just Cherry pressing his closed lips against Joe’s knuckles through the fabric of his mask. But it’s so far off from what Joe had expected that it practically knocks the air out of his lungs.

“Are you trying to sabotage me?” Joe manages.

“Maybe.” Cherry lets Joe’s hand fall from his grasp.

“Stop flirting and do the trick!” Miya calls out. “I want to see you fall!”

Joe can feel Cherry’s eyes on him as he takes his place, throwing his board down and jumping onto it, rocketing towards the corner. His hand burns where Cherry kissed it, and his head is swimming with a thousand questions, but the loudest is WHY?

He can hear that the others are talking, but he can’t comprehend any of their words. Besides, he needs to be preparing for the turn.

He manages to flip his born and bring it down on the corner with only a slight wobble, but instead of focusing on the board, he looks back to the others and he sees Cherry watching him, and something about the look in Cherry’s eyes makes Joe stumble.

He messes up when he goes to flip the board upright again and crashes to the ground.

(It’s absolutely worth it when he hears Cherry’s laughter.)

He rolls over and finds Cherry already there, offering him a hand. It’s strikingly similar to all the times he bailed when they were first skating Crazy Rock and Kaoru would always stop to help him back up.

Joe takes Cherry’s hand and lets Cherry pull him back to his feet. Their hands linger in each other’s for several moments too long, and this has to mean something, right?

“This is your fault,” he grumbles.

“Sorry,” Cherry says, not sounding sorry at all. “I’m hungry. Want to go get a snack with me?”

Joe rolls his eyes as he picks up his board. “I don’t have the money to waste on overpriced, processed, garbage.”

“I’m paying, dimwit.”

“Oh. Well in that case, lead the way.”

They walk back past the others and Cherry tells them they’re going to get snacks and to not wait up if the races start before they get back.

“Will you bring me back a soda?” Shadow asks.

“And gummies for me!” Miya tacks on.

“And--” Langa starts.

“No.” Cherry glares at them. “Do I look like I’m made out of money? I’m already paying for this cheapskate over here,” he gestures to Joe. The others pout, but they don’t push. “C’mon,” Cherry grabs Joe by the arm, “let’s go.”

Cherry doesn’t let go until they’re out of sight of the kids, and the two of them walk in silence to the people selling snacks near the entrance. Cherry buys a pack of candy and a bag of chips. He hands the chips to Joe as they walk away. Joe doesn’t ask where they’re going; just follows as Cherry leads him away from the crowds. This night is too confusing already, so Joe is just going to let things happen.

They end up finding a quiet spot near the fence, and they sit down across from each other. Carla is next to Kaoru, and Kojiro’s board ends up in between them so it can hold their snacks.

“Any particular reason for this?” Kojiro asks.

Kaoru shrugs. He pulls his mask down and pops a piece of candy in his mouth. Kojiro has no idea how he can stomach eating something that’s just processed sugar, but then again, Kaoru has always had a sweet tooth. “I’ve been thinking,” he says.

“About?”

“Stuff.”

“Enlightening.”

“Shut up.” Kaoru leans forward and pushes Kojiro’s knee. He sighs, and takes to twirling a strand of his hair around his finger. “It’s… weird.”

“What’s weird?”

Kaoru gestures vaguely. “Life. How we ended up. I thought I’d spent the rest of my life looking for closure after Adam left, and I thought if I ever did get closure, it could only come after I beat him in a beef. I thought…” He shakes his head. “I guess I thought I could make him realize how badly he hurt me. In my dream world, I’d challenge him to a beef, and after he lost, I’d make him own up to the pain he caused me. I’d make him list out every thing he ever did that hurt me, and then he’d realize how badly he’d treated me, and he’d feel sorry.”

Kaoru looks up. “He’d come to me, begging for forgiveness, and I’d look him in the eye and tell him No.”

“Did you bring me out here just to tell me about your revenge fantasies? Because I feel like this is a red flag that I’m about to be murdered.”

“There’s still time for that.”

“Reassuring.”

They eat their snacks in silence for a while longer before Kaoru speaks up again. “I needed closure before I could feel like I was ready to move on.”

“Huh?”

“With Adam,” he clarifies. “I needed closure from… everything that happened there… before I felt like I could fully open myself up to anyone else. But then that closure didn’t come how I’d planned, and… I was worried I’d never get it.”

“You don’t need closure to move on.” Kojiro reaches over, placing his hand on top of Kaoru’s. “Sometimes, closure never comes, and that’s okay. Endings are messy and open-ended.”

Kaoru nods slowly. “I know. But I did need closure with Adam, and I got it. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I got what I needed. For seven years, I’d been clinging onto the hope that the Adam we knew was still buried there somewhere - that I could bring him back out, and we could get our friend back. But he’s gone. And I’m okay with that now.”

Kojiro tilts his head. “You are?”

“Yeah. We don’t need him. We’ve got the kids and Shadow now.”

“Adam always said we were like a family,” Kojiro says. It’s a memory he spent years trying to forget, but one that never fully went away despite his best efforts.

Kaoru hums in agreement. “He was never really family, though. Family doesn’t treat you like that. I would know.”

“You’re right.”

Kaoru turns his hand over and weaves his fingers with Kojiro’s. “He wasn’t family, but you and I were. You and I are.”

Kojiro nods. “And now we’ve got three teenagers and their reluctant father instead of him.”

Kaoru laughs. “Right. Now we’ve got the kids and Shadow.”

“I’d say it’s an improvement.”

“Absolutely.”

This isn’t the first conversation the two of them have had where Kaoru has put his heart on the line, but it’s the first in a long time where it’s happened without any alcohol, and it feels different.

“Kojiro--” Kaoru cuts himself off abruptly. Kojiro doesn’t want to push too hard and risk Kaoru shutting down, but he also wants Kaoru to keep talking.

In the distance, he hears the sirens to announce the first race going off.

“We should probably go,” Kaoru whispers, his gaze dropping to their entwined hands.

“Yeah.” Kojiro swallows thickly.

Neither of them move for several very long moments.

And then Kaoru is disentangling their hands and pushing Kojiro’s skateboard to the side, but instead of standing up, he leans forward, closer to Kojiro. His hands come up to frame Kojiro’s face and he mumbles, “Tell me to stop,” his breath warm against Kojiro’s lips.

“Please don’t,” Kojiro whispers, because he’s pretty sure that if Kaoru stops now, he’s going to genuinely die.

Kaoru’s lips meet his, hesitant at first, before he seems to become more sure of himself. Kojiro breaks the kiss long enough to pull Kaoru into his lap, and then their lips are meeting again and Kaoru is winding one hand through Kojiro’s hair while Kojiro’s hands rest firmly on Kaoru’s hips.

Kojiro has no idea how long it’s been when Kaoru breaks the kiss, both of them breathless, and rests his forehead against Kojiro’s, grinning. He slides the hand that had been on Kojiro’s cheek down to his shoulder, fingers tapping excitedly.

“Kojiro?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

Kojiro pulls back, those words violently snapping out of the dreamy post-kiss haze he’d been in.. “What?”

“You heard me.” Kaoru crosses his arms. “I’m not saying it again.”

Kojiro blinks, and then laughs because not one thing Kaoru has done tonight has been something Kojiro could have predicted, so of course Kaoru pulls out those words before Kojiro can. “I have to admit, I always thought I’d be the one to say it first. And I didn’t think I’d live to see the day you said I love you to anyone but Carla.”

“You have about two seconds until you don’t live to see the day you say it to me.”

“Apologies, princess.” Kojiro slowly runs his hands from Kaoru’s waist up to his ribcage, and back down again, wanting to just feel him. Kaoru’s hands come to rest on Kojiro’s shoulders as he raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Kaoru,” Kojiro whispers, leaning in close so their lips are almost brushing. “I love you. Always have, always will.” He seals their lips together in a quick kiss as Kaoru digs his fingers into Kojiro’s shoulders.

“You’re stopping yourself from stimming,” Kojiro mumbles against Kaoru’s lips. “You know you don’t have to do that when it’s just the two of us.”

“Shut up,” Kaoru responds, falling forward and burying his head in Kojiro’s neck. His hands slide down to Kojiro’s back and the finger tapping picks back up. “I hate you so much.”

“You just said you loved me. No take backs.”

(They don’t end up watching any of the races that night, and when they finally do meet back up with the kids and Shadow at the end of the night, they walk back hand-in-hand.)

v.

For as long as Kojiro has known him, Kaoru has been most himself when he’s alone.

He’s spent his life curating the perfect images to put off to others, whether to their peers in high school or to his clients or to everyone at S.

But none of those are really Kaoru. Sure, they have elements of the real Kaoru woven through them, but they’re not who Kaoru is when it’s just the two of them. And while Kaoru is more himself when it’s just him and Kojiro, he only ever lets his walls fully come down when he’s alone.

Which is why one of Kojiro’s favorite pastimes is simply watching Kaoru, because he’ll catch those moments when Kaoru forgets he’s around other people and lets the mask fall. When he gets caught up in a beef at S, or when he’s sitting at the bar in Sia La Luce and thinks Kojiro isn’t paying attention to him, or when he’s working on a project and has lost all sense of time and space, or when he’s just waking up in the morning and is too tired to build his walls high enough that Kojiro can’t get through.

Kaoru as himself is the most beautiful thing Kojiro has ever seen. Sure, he’s definitely got a thing for Kaoru in his Cherry Blossom costume, and Kaoru is gorgeous no matter what, but those moments where Kojiro can catch glimpses of who Kaoru truly is are his favorites.

Kojiro is fresh out of the shower and on his way to start cooking dinner, but he stops as he passes Kaoru’s office. There’s soft music wafting through the open door, and Kojiro can hear Kaoru humming along to it.

He peaks around the corner and finds Kaoru seated cross-legged at his table, looking down at his tablet with a stylus in his hand. He’s using one hand to sketch, and the other is twirling a strand of his hair around his finger. His hair is loose, cascading down his back and over his shoulders, and his glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose.

Carla’s sitting by the wall, plugged into an outlet, and Kojiro figures that’s where the music is coming from.

Kaoru switches the humming out for muttering to himself as he furrows his eyebrows and leans closer to his tablet screen. Kojiro can’t make out any of the specific words from where he’s standing, but he’s assuming it has to do with whatever project Kaoru is working on.

Kaoru drops the strand of hair he’d been playing with, and the mumbling stops as he just stares at the screen for a moment.

Then, his eyes light up and a smile crosses his face, and Kojiro’s never seen such an adorable Eureka! moment. Kaoru’s hands ball into fists and he shakes them back and forth for a moment before bringing them up near his mouth. He taps his knuckles against each other a few times before he goes back to shaking his fists.

When the two of them were really little, Kaoru would stim freely. He was always flapping his hands or shaking his fists or bouncing up and down. But as they got older, he started masking. His parents told him it was cute when he was young, but not so much as he got older. And the other kids in their classes would look at him weirdly.

The stimming didn’t stop - not entirely. It turned into doodling and writing all over his papers and his arms and Kojiro’s arms, or playing with his hair, or tapping his fingers against whatever surface was closest. Kojiro tried to tell Kaoru he shouldn’t feel the need to mask because who cares if a few people give him weird looks, but he never listened.

He only started masking in front of Kojiro after Kojiro’s return from Italy.

Kojiro had taken it personally at first, thinking his going away had made it so Kaoru couldn’t trust him anymore. But Kaoru said it wasn’t that at all; it was the fact that masking in front of people had become second nature for him. It was easier to do it than not. He had a business to run, and he had a persona to maintain, and he’d trained himself against visibly stimming in front of anyone.

Kojiro hated it - still hates it, hates that Kaoru has to hide something that is an intrinsic part of who he is - but he also didn’t want to make Kaoru feel bad, so he’d just made sure to remind Kaoru that he will never judge him for his stimming.

It took time before Kaoru would let himself stim noticeably in front of Kojiro again - or, the stims Kaoru counts as “noticeable”; Kojiro notices them all. Even now, it doesn’t happen often, and Kojiro doesn’t blame Kaoru in the slightest. He’s stopped thinking it’s reflective of him specifically, too. The kids are always stimming in one way or another, but Kaoru doesn’t let the mask fall in front of them either.

He lets it fall when he’s alone, though. And he’s told Kojiro that it isn’t necessarily even a conscious decision that his most noticeable stimming happens when he’s alone, that he doesn’t really have anything against doing it where Kojiro can see, but his brain has seemed to block that out as a possibility without his consent.

So Kojiro cherishes the moments when Kaoru’s mind allows the mask to fall and he gets to see Kaoru expressing his excitement and happiness like he did when they were kids.

As Kaoru goes back to work, Kojiro slips into the room. Kaoru glances up just long enough to let Kojiro know he’s been seen before his eyes fall back to his tablet and he continues sketching.

Kojiro crosses the room, coming up behind Kaoru and bracing his arms against the table, pressing a kiss to the side of Kaoru’s head before mumbling a soft, “I love you,” into his hair.

“What do you want?” Kaoru deadpans, though his voice doesn’t quite have the same sharp edge it usually does. There’s a hint of fondness to it that only Kojiro is privy to.

Still, can’t a man tell his partner he loves them without being questioned?

“Must I want something?” Kojiro kisses his way down to Kaoru’s shoulder. “Can’t I express my love for my boyfriend without having an ulterior motive?”

“Not usually.”

Kojiro huffs.

Kaoru turns to face him, leaning in to place a quick kiss against his lips. “Do you need something?” His voice has lost any sort of fire now, and Kojiro can’t help but smile at how lucky he is to be able to see Kaoru like this.

When Kojiro doesn’t answer right away, Kaoru raises an eyebrow and gestures impatiently for him to say something.

“Just want to know what you want for dinner.”

Kaoru hums. “Isn’t it your turn to pick?”

“Well my choice is whatever you want.”

Kaoru rolls his eyes. “That’s not how it works, dimwit. Just make whatever. You know what I will and won’t eat.”

Kojiro opens his mouth to respond - probably make some jab about Kaoru being a picky eater that they both know he doesn’t really mean - but Kaoru cuts him off with a hand on his arm, gently guiding Kojiro to sit down next to him. “Do you remember that conversation we had after S last week?”

Kojiro frowns. “The one about whether or not Langa should make Reki watch Supernatural?”

“No, you idiot! That wasn’t even after S; that was when the kids came into the restaurant to beg for help with homework.”

Oh. Well pardon Kojiro for mixing his days up.

“I meant the conversation about tattoos.”

Kojiro blinks slowly. That conversation. They’d come back from S, drank a little too much wine, and Kaoru had sleepily started tracing his fingers over Kojiro’s tattoo like he does when he’s bored and they’re alone. Without meaning to, Kojiro had found himself blurting out that he’d been considering getting another tattoo.

“What of?” Kaoru had asked.

Kojiro had shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe a cherry blossom.”

Kaoru had halfheartedly shoved him like Kojiro couldn’t see the way his face flushed at that. And then Kojiro had lowered his voice, giving a real answer. “Whatever it is, I want you to design it. I know the sun was your design too, but that was years ago, and your style has developed a lot since then.”

Kaoru had scoffed and looked away. “My ‘style’ turned into calligraphy.”

“Then write something for me.”

The conversation had trailed to other topics from there until Kojiro had eventually had to carry Kaoru to bed because he was half-asleep and refused to walk.

Kojiro nods. “I remember.”

“I… came up with a few ideas. Just in case you ever decide to actually get another tattoo.”

Kojiro’s mouth drops open as he looks over at Kaoru. “You-- you what?”

Honestly, he’d expected Kaoru to brush the conversation off and forget about it. He’d expected that he’d have to be more upfront than a drunken confession said in a way that made it sound like a joke in order to get Kaoru to actually design another tattoo for him.

“If you don’t like them, it’s not a big deal. But I caught up on my commission work, so I figured I’d sketch out some ideas for you--”

“Kaoru,” Kojiro interrupts.

Kaoru bites his lip, effectively silencing himself.

“I’m sure they’re wonderful. I just-- I wasn’t expecting you to realize I was being serious about wanting you to design another tattoo for me.”

“Why not?” he snaps.

Kojiro gives him a pointed look.

Kaoru sighs. “Do you want to see my ideas or not?”

“Please.” Kojiro wraps an arm around Kaoru, still seated half behind him, and rests his chin on Kaoru’s shoulder so he can look at the tablet screen.

Kaoru walks him through the different designs he’s come up with, explaining his design choices with such care that Kojiro is pretty sure Kaoru’s been thinking about possible tattoos ever since they had that conversation.

As expected, all of Kaoru’s ideas are nothing short of stunning, but as soon as he pulls up the last design - half-finished because it’s what he’d been working on when he’d been interrupted - Kojiro knows that’s the winning one.

He took Kojiro’s comment about a cherry blossom tattoo and combined it with calligraphy, petals dancing around the words as if they’re floating through the breeze.

And he knows that every time he sees it, he’s going to be reminded of Kaoru’s excitement when he’d slotted ideas together to create it. He’s going to remember that Kaoru had been that happy making something for him.

“Thoughts?” Kaoru asks.

Kojiro shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “They’re okay, I guess.”

Kaoru glares at him.

“Kidding, princess. They’re beautiful.” He kisses Kaoru’s cheek, and whispers, “I love you,” before he pulls his lips away, reveling in the pink blush he’s brought to Kaoru’s cheeks. “Seriously, you’re crazy talented. I know you said they’re just sketches, but they all already look absolutely incredible.”

“Thanks,” Kaoru mumbles, and Kojiro knows he’s trying not to let him see how appreciative he is of the praise.

“So,” Kojiro starts, “dinner ideas?”

“I thought I told you to decide.”

“I want to know what you want.”

Kaoru crosses his arms. “I want you to surprise me.”

That elicits a laugh from Kojiro.

“What?” Kaoru asks - not defensive for once; just confused.

“It’s just…” Kojiro shakes his head. “You’re always the one surprising me, it seems. And you’re hardly ever caught off guard by anything I do. Maybe you know me too well to be surprised by me.”

Kaoru hums. “Maybe you’re just predictable.”

“Maybe I am,” Kojiro concedes.

(To no one’s surprise, Kojiro makes carbonara for dinner, and Kaoru makes another snide comment about his predictability. But Kojiro can tell his predictability has gone over well with Kaoru, so he’ll save his attempt at a true surprise for some other time.)

+ i.

Kaoru likes to think he knows Kojiro pretty well.

They’ve known each other since kindergarten and Kaoru can hardly remember a time in his life before Kojiro. Most everything they’ve done, they’ve done together. Even when Kojiro was at culinary school in Italy and Kaoru was at university in Tokyo, they didn’t know how to truly let go of each other. There were always calls and texts and letters and every visit home Kojiro made included Kaoru waiting for him at the airport.

To say Kaoru knows everything about Kojiro would be an understatement - it had taken him years (and several snide comments from Miya and Hiromi) to realize that his feelings were reciprocated - but he does know Kojiro. He knows how to read Kojiro, how to predict his next move, how to best get under his skin. Knowing someone for as long as Kaoru’s known Kojiro can’t lead to any other outcome.

So when Kojiro challenges Kaoru to a beef out of the blue, Kaoru knows he must have some sort of ulterior motive.

He just… doesn’t know what it is.

Kojiro has something he wants from Kaoru - it’s clear as day in the smirk he’s wearing as he leans across the counter, into Kaoru’s space. But Kaoru is sifting through his memories and he can’t quite reach what it could be.

“Why?” Kaoru counters, giving himself more time to figure out what Kojiro is playing at.

Irritatingly, Kojiro’s expression doesn’t give away anything more. “I just feel like it’s been a while since we’ve raced, you know?”

Kaoru raises an eyebrow. Surely Kojiro knows he isn’t falling for that excuse.

“What?”

“You know what.”

“Kaoru.”

A smile makes its way across Kaoru’s face entirely without his consent. “Okay,” he puts his hands up in surrender. “You win. Let’s race. What are the terms?”

Kojiro leans in closer, and Kaoru’s brain nearly forgets it’s supposed to be listening, wanting instead to think about closing the distance between them. But he manages to steel himself long enough to hear Kojiro’s response: “I’ll tell you later.”

Kaoru hums. “Keeping secrets from me, gorilla?”

Kojiro’s smirk falls. “Kaoru--”

“That was a joke,” Kaoru interrupts before Kojiro can get all sappy and sentimental on him. “I trust you.”

“You trust me?”

The tone with which he says it makes Kaoru want to go back on his word - he’s sure he already knows how Kojiro is going to turn this against him - but he can’t bring himself to answer with a lie. He sighs deeply. “Yes, Kojiro. I trust you.”

“Then let me race against you. I’ll tell you my terms before we race, I promise.”

Kaoru huffs. He’d love to keep going back and forth over this, but really, why would he turn down a chance to race against Joe? They both know Joe vs. Cherry beefs are huge hits with the S crowd, and Kaoru doesn’t get quite the same thrill racing anyone else.

Also, he can think of a better use for his time right now than pressing for answers it’s clear he won’t be getting.

“Fine.” He shrugs, keeping his tone nonchalant. “I suppose I’ll accept. But when I win, I want you to let me break into that bottle of Barolo wine you keep saying no to.”

Kojiro laughs like there’s something he knows and Kaoru doesn’t. “If you win, it’s all yours.”

Kaoru nods. “Good. Maybe I’ll share some with you if I’m feeling generous.” He stands to his feet so he can lean closer to Kojiro, lips very nearly brushing his. “How long until you’re done cleaning? You’ve been working for hours.”

Kojiro hums, stealing a quick kiss before he responds. “I’d be done already if someone didn’t keep distracting me.”

“You brought up the beef challenge.”

“Whatever.”

Kaoru doesn’t even bother dignifying that with a response; he just presses their lips together again. He’ll complain about Kojiro taking too long later, but can he really be blamed for wanting to kiss that pretty smirk off his boyfriend’s face?

--

Kaoru had been… hesitant to allow he and Kojiro’s relationship to become common S knowledge. He’d convinced himself that either everyone would hate them, or that everyone would be weird about it, or that people would take it as an invitation into their private lives. He keeps Cherry Blossom mysterious and elusive for a reason - his S persona and Sakurayashiki-sensei are two entirely different characters and it’s important they remain that way. The more people at S know about Kaoru beyond Cherry Blossom, the more likely it is that the lines between his identities blur, and he doesn’t need that.

In the end, it hadn’t exactly been Kaoru’s decision to make their relationship public knowledge. But it hadn’t exactly been Kojiro’s, either.

It just sort of… happened.

They still transformed into Cherry and Joe as soon as they passed through the gates, still bickered for the fans and the fun of it, but Kaoru and Kojiro started to seep into their characters more and more with each passing week. When they weren’t racing, they’d stand closer to each other than before. Joe would throw his arm around Cherry, and neither one of them would make any effort to distance themselves. They’d show on nights with no races just to watch the kids practice, sharing snacks and sitting on the sidelines, and they’d let their hands wander too close together or Joe would lean his head on Cherry’s shoulder and Cherry wouldn’t be able to bring himself to move away.

People started to pick up on it, and the S forums went wild with conspiracy theories and debates on whether or not Cherry and Joe were together.

It wasn’t until a few months later that anyone - apart from the kids and Shadow, in the safety of Sia La Luce - brought it up to their faces.

One of Joe’s fangirls had been shoved towards them by some of her friends, who were offering encouraging smiles and thumbs ups in the background. The poor girl looked like she’d been selected as a sacrificial lamb, but she’d steeled herself and asked, “Are the rumors true? Are you two really dating?”

Cherry had looked at Joe. Joe had looked at Cherry.

Cherry had assumed that if anyone asked him outright, he’d deny it. But face-to-face with the confrontation, he found he didn’t care much if all of S knew. They all had their speculations anyways; might as well put them out of their misery and give the fanatics on the forums something new to talk about.

Joe had looked at Cherry with a look that said, I’m ready if you are.

So Cherry had turned back to the girl, smiled, and said, “Yes. We are.”

And then he’d taken Joe’s hand in his and they’d walked away.

Kaoru had been terrified of the reaction they’d get. Mostly, he’d been afraid their fangirls would start mourning the loss of their romantic availability and he did not want to have to deal with the tears.

But it’d gone pretty well, all things considered. Joe’s fangirls seemed more torn up over it than Cherry’s, which Kaoru endlessly teased him for, but life moved on. Not much changed apart from the fact that Joe could add kissing Cherry to his arsenal of annoyances and Cherry could add kissing Joe to his collection of distractions.

And, they could stop dancing around each other, toeing the line between what could be seen as platonic and what would be labelled as romantic, every time they showed up at S.

He’ll never admit it, but Kaoru is glad they went public.

Mostly because it gives them free reign to walk into S hand-in-hand, boards tucked under their free arms, and Joe looking at Cherry with that smile that melts Cherry’s insides - that stupid, dopey, lovestruck, grin that makes Cherry want to forget about everything else and just kiss Joe senseless.

And when Reki jumps up and waves when he sees them, Cherry lets himself be dragged over to the kids and Shadow with minimal eye rolling that’s mostly just out of principle at this point.

“They said you two are running a beef tonight!” Miya exclaims. “Is that true? What’s it for?”

Cherry huffs. “He won’t tell me.”

“I said I’d tell you before we race.”

He sighs, disentangling his hand from Joe’s so he can gently set Carla on the ground. “This is before the race, you dimwit.”

“I meant right before the race.”

“Whatever.” Cherry shakes his head and looks back to Miya. “It doesn’t matter anyways, because I’m going to win, and I’m stealing his Barolo.”

“What’s a Barolo?” Langa pipes up.

“An expensive wine,” Joe answers, “which he is not getting his hands on, because I’m saving it for something important.”

Cherry shrugs. “So anyway, how have you all been? Reki, did you get that Laser Flip down yet?”

Reki launches into a detailed explanation of his attempts and how he finally did get it with help from Langa, and how he’s thinking about alterations to make it cooler (see: more dangerous).

Joe doesn’t stick around to listen to Reki’s rambling, electing instead to go off with Shadow and Miya to get some half-pipe time in before the beef. Cherry listens because he knows he always appreciated someone listening to him infodump when he was Reki’s age, and Langa listens because he’s head over heels for Reki (or, that’s what Cherry is assuming anyways.)

Eventually, though, it’s time for the beef. Cherry still doesn’t know what Joe wants from him, and he’s eager to find out by the time they finally make it to the starting line with the kids and Shadow in tow to see them off. Shadow promises he’ll drive them all to the finish line and they’ll be waiting there.

Cherry turns to Joe. “So, do I get to know what your terms are now?”

Joe smiles, but there’s something almost… off about it. He’s still hiding something. “Sure, princess.” He steps closer, infiltrating Cherry’s space, and it’s intoxicating. It’s a very good thing Cherry has spent so long restraining himself from kissing Joe whenever he feels like, because it is taking every ounce of self control he has to keep a level head right now.

“When I win, I want to ask you a question.”

Cherry frowns as Joe steps back. “Huh? You can ask me questions whenever you want--” He’s cut off by Joe pressing a finger to his lips.

“I get to ask you a question, and you have to give me an honest answer. No beating around the bush, no sarcasm, no non-answers. Straightforward and truthful.”

Okay. That’s a little more fair.

(Not that it matters, since Cherry is going to be the one winning, but at least those terms make sense.)

“Fine. Deal.”

Joe smirks. “Let’s race then.” He turns back to face the starting line, and Cherry does the same, both of them readying their boards. “Love you, blossom.”

Cherry scoffs, and then he glances over at Joe. “You’re alright sometimes, too.”

“I’ll take it.”

The countdown begins, and then they’re both throwing their boards down and taking off down the track at the final light. Cherry vaguely registers the cheers of the onlookers, but he’s still a little wrapped up in the terms Joe had laid out.

An honest answer to an unknown question.

Really, he wouldn’t need a beef for that. Cherry will put up a fight, but if it’s something Joe is really that worried about, Cherry knows the limits. He won’t push too hard and he’ll give Joe as good an answer as he can. They both know half of Cherry’s answer avoidance is rooted in the fact that his best answer for a question is some variation of I don’t know, and Cherry’s gotten better at admitting that without it feeling like pulling teeth.

So why is an honest answer what Joe requested if he wins?

If Cherry were a less competitive person, he’d be tempted to let Joe win just to satisfy his curiosity. But he’ll be damned if he lets Joe’s little mind games keep him from winning this beef. He doesn’t even really care about the wine; he just wants to beat Joe.

The two of them are pretty evenly matched when it comes to skating, and they’ve skated side by side for long enough that they know each other’s tricks and how, exactly, they work. They know each other’s tells and what move will be made when. Cherry can cut Joe off from his Power Breaks at the corners and Joe has figured out enough about Carla’s angle calculations that he can get in the way at the last minute so there’s no time for a recalculation

And they know exactly what to say to get under each other’s skin - make the other tear their eyes away from the course to look at them.

(And oh does Cherry love it when Joe’s eyes are on him and him alone.)

Cherry lets Joe creep ahead of him just enough to give Carla a better read on the next turn, and Joe glances back.

“See something you like?” Cherry taunts.

“Just making sure I didn’t lose you.”

“I thought you wanted to win?”

“Yeah, but it’s no fun without a challenge.”

Cherry doesn’t get to respond, because the turn is fast approaching, and he needs to focus on Carla’s calculations.

“You’re predictable, blossom!” Joe calls back to him as he takes the corner at a speed that’s outright dangerous. Why is he being so reckless?

“Bold words coming from you!” Carla shifts board types. “We both know you’re the master of predictability. Carla, high speed mode.”

“Activating high speed mode.”

“You’re going to eat your words, princess.”

Cherry hums as he catches up with Joe, and they’re neck and neck once more. “Promise?”

Joe just rolls his eyes.

They’re on a straightaway now, and Cherry thinks he’s got his winning move. “Carla: Type Long.”

“Yes, Master.”

Cherry is glad they went public with their relationship, because it allows him this.

He hooks his board with Joe’s so there’s no worry about him tumbling off - it’s no fun to win because Joe bailed - and grabs Joe’s necklace, pulling him closer.

“What are you doing?” Joe questions, out of breath, his forehead bumping against Cherry’s.

“Winning.” Cherry answers simply.

(The plan was to distract Joe enough that he’s caught off guard, loses his momentum, and can’t catch back up to Cherry. But Cherry might have underestimated how much close proximity to Joe he can take without getting drunk off it himself.)

“How so?”

“I’ll leave you with something to think about.”

Joe’s Huh? is drowned out by Cherry asking Carla how far away the next corner is. He isn’t trying to get Joe to slam into a wall of rock because his brain went No Thoughts Head Empty, which means he’s going to be guiding them both around this corner.

“Hold on,” he orders, like Joe has a choice, and grabs Joe’s arm with his free hand. Carla won’t calculate the angle for both of them (Cherry will have to try to figure out how to get her to do that at some point), so he’s going to have to do it himself.

“Kaoru--” Joe whispers.

“Don’t call me that.” Cherry tightens his grip on Joe’s arm as they reach the corner, and Joe’s hands fly up to Cherry’s shoulders.

“We’re going to die.”

“Nice to see you trust me.”

“Cherry!”

“Don’t be such a wimp.”

They do not, in fact, die while going around the corner. Cherry is skilled enough to avoid death on the S track, thank you very much. He’s been skating this track since he was a teenager, he can manage one corner with Joe’s board hooked with his.

“See?” Cherry asks. “What did I say?”

“You--”

Cherry cuts Joe off by yanking him closer by the necklace and sealing their lips together.

It doesn’t last long - it can’t, really, with the bumps in the track and the speed at which they’re going - but it’s enough.

Cherry can practically see Joe’s brain short-circuiting.

“Love you, Kojiro,” he whispers into Joe’s ear before unhooking their boards and letting go of him. He has Carla shrink back to her regular size and speeds down the track, leaving Joe behind.

It would have worked too, if not for Langa.

Cherry gets enough of a lead on Joe that he’s pretty sure he’s got his win secured, until Joe takes the same stupid dangerous jump Langa did in the tournament race between him and Joe, and he lands in front of Cherry, speeding towards the factory.

Cherry swears under his breath.

“That was slick, Four-Eyes, but I’m not losing this one.”

Cherry swears not under his breath so Joe can hear it, and Joe just laughs in response.

He does manage to catch up to Joe by the time they make it to the abandoned factory, but he’s lost his lead and he’s not sure a distraction tactic will work a second time. Carla can do a lot to help, but she can’t make up for Joe’s ridiculous jump when they’re so close to the finish line now.

Cherry’s earlier question comes back to the forefront of his mind: Why is he being so reckless?

What question has an answer so important that Joe needs to skate like this to assure he gets an honest answer?

Cherry thinks back to their early days skating this course, and back to the first time he and Joe ever made it to the finish line successfully. He’d been so happy to have finally made it that he’d jumped off his board and practically into Kojiro’s arms.

He’d started the race assuring Kojiro that he wouldn’t be stopping like they didn’t both know it was a lie - like there wasn’t an unspoken promise hanging between them that the first time they made it to the finish line would be together.

Everything they’ve ever done has been together, and Kaoru wouldn’t have it any other way.

He pushes harder, puts Carla back in high speed mode, and then he’s right next to Joe as they’re both speeding to the finish line.

“Nice of you to join me, princess.”

“Shut up, gorilla.”

There are fans cheering them on from below, and the lights are tinting the entire world blue and purple, but all Cherry is really focused on is Joe.

(How could he ever be expected to focus on anything else?)

He knows Joe is going to try to pull one final trick to put him over the finish line faster, but he’s not sure what it’s going to be. He’s skating too recklessly to not try something, though. Something that will utilize his strength, give him just enough of a boost to assure a win--

“Carla,” Joe says.

Wait, what?

“Exit high speed mode. Type: long.”

Cherry’s eyes widen.

“Yes, Master.”

“NO!” Cherry shouts as Carla follows Joe’s orders, slowing Cherry down enough that Joe pulls forward. He’d been expecting Joe to show off his muscles, not go straight for the jugular!

Cherry is going to have to take away Joe’s voice access to Carla during S.

They hit the ground, and Cherry has Carla go back to her regular size, but it’s not enough.

Joe crosses the finish line, and Cherry zips over it after him, pulling to a stop. He rolls his eyes and huffs as he steps off his board. “You’re obnoxious.” He turns to face Joe. “What do you w--?”

Cherry freezes, mouth hanging open from his half-finished question: What do you want to ask me?

Because it’s pretty clear now why Joe was acting the way that he was.

Kojiro is on one knee, an open ring box in his hand, looking at Kaoru like no one else in the world has ever existed. Like it’s just them, skating the S track alone when they were kids just to prove they could do it. The nights where they came alone, skated until sunrise, and Kaoru had pretended those nights weren’t what he wanted the rest of his life to look like.

(It wasn’t just the skating he’d wanted; he’d wanted to be alone with Kojiro. He’d wanted to spend his entire life feeling like the world was only them in their own little Garden of Eden where the outside world could never reach them.)

Staring at Kojiro now, an unspoken question on his upturned lips, Kaoru’s body goes numb. He thinks maybe he’s dreaming - that the past decade of his life has been nothing but a fever dream or insomnia-induced hallucination. Because there’s no way that someone like Kojiro is proposing to someone like him; it simply isn’t possible.

And yet.

Kaoru likes to think he knows Kojiro pretty well.

But this?

This surprised him.

“Kaoru…” Kojiro starts, and Kaoru doesn’t bother correcting him right now.

He does say, “That’s not a question.”

“I’m getting there.”

Kaoru crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow, gesturing for Kojiro to go on like he can’t feel his heart pounding and his entire body shaking, dying for Kojiro to just ask already.

“I-- I had a speech, but… I don’t think there’s really anything I could say that you don’t already know. I’ve loved you for years, and I’m going to love you for the rest of my life. You’re mean and you’re stubborn, but you’re sweet when no one’s looking and gentle when no one’s expecting it, and I cannot imagine loving anyone else.”

Kaoru doesn’t wipe at his eyes because he isn’t crying, but maybe his voice cracks when he says, “That’s still not a question, stupid.”

“Kaoru. Will you marry me?”

There.

Kaoru pulls his mask down, and yanks Kojiro back to his feet by the collar of his jacket. Before Kojiro can question it, Kaoru is crashing their lips together. The hand that isn’t tangled in Kojiro’s jacket makes its way up to Kojiro’s cheek, cradling it as they break apart.

It was much too short for Kaoru’s liking, but there will be time for more kissing later.

“The deal was a straightforward, honest, answer,” Kojiro points out breathlessly.

Kaoru wants to say something like You’re so stupid, but the deal was also no sarcasm, so he just laughs and whispers, “Yes,” leaning his forehead against Kojiro’s.

“Yes?” Kojiro repeats, like he wasn’t expecting it.

“Yes! God, how could I ever say no?” Kaoru runs his fingers through Kojiro’s green curls. “Do you have anything going on inside that head of yours?”

“Not at the moment. You’re a little distracting.”

Kaoru grins as he pulls back and peels the glove from his left hand. Kojiro slips the ring onto his finger, and the applause from the crowds brings Kaoru back to the reality of the fact that they are not alone right now.

(He still can’t really bring himself to care.)

The loudest cheers, of course, are from the kids and Shadow. And as soon as Kaoru thinks to look over at them, Miya is dashing over and latching their arms around Kaoru, startling a laugh out of him.

“GROUP HUG!” Shadow shouts, and that’s about all the warning Kaoru gets before he’s being crushed into the middle of a hug, Joe’s laugh sounding near his ear and Miya complaining about being crushed until the hug eventually breaks.

He’s not sure he’s ever been as happy as he is right now.

Kaoru’s eyes find their way back to Kojiro, who has that same stupid, infuriatingly cute, smile on that he did when they walked in. Kaoru’s hands shape themselves into fists and he taps them against each other as he bounces on the balls of his feet because apparently his brain is still very much not computing the fact that there are other people here.

Kojiro’s grin widens, and Kaoru could snap at him, but he doesn’t feel like bickering right now. So instead, he does the same thing he did back when he and Kojiro first crossed the finish line together: he throws his arms around Kojiro, knowing full well Kojiro will catch him.

He does, and then he’s lifting Kaoru up off the ground and spinning him around as Kaoru buries his face in Kojiro’s shoulder to hide his smile (like that’ll really do anything at this point).

When Kaoru’s feet have been returned to the ground, he pulls back just enough to look at Kojiro. He can still hardly believe this is real, and he’s vaguely aware of his fingers tapping against Kojiro’s shoulders.

“Hey Kaoru?” Kojiro whispers, leaning in close so their noses are brushing.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Kaoru hums. “I love you too. I guess.”

Kojiro chuckles before sealing their lips in a kiss.

(Later, when they’re back home and Kojiro has Kaoru pressed up against the wall, kissing him like he needs it to live, Kaoru will ask what Kojiro was saving the bottle of wine for.

And Kojiro will laugh and say, “To celebrate our engagement.”)