Archive of Our Own

October was Sugawara Koushi’s favorite time of year. It was the time of year where the weather had finally started to cool down, the late summer heat dispelled by the coming winter, the fresh morning air tinted with that special scent that always came with fall, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on but was there without fail every year. Oftentimes, throughout the rest of the year, he found himself wishing he could have bottled that scent up when it was there, maybe turned it into a candle or a perfume. The candles at the stores boasting an autumn experience never lived up to the real thing, all fake and artificial. He’s sure he’d make a killing in profits if he could only find a way to collect the transparent autumn air and turn it solid to be used when fall felt all too far away.

The arrival of fall also meant the arrival of chunky oversized sweaters, though he wasn’t shy about wearing them throughout the rest of the year, it just meant that they weren’t as suffocating. There was just something so comforting about being fully engulfed in a piece of clothing made especially for warmth, for comfort. Almost like being hugged every second of the day, something he couldn’t do- at least, not without weird glances from those he saw. And, if he were being honest, the way the black ink on his skin peeked out of rolled cuffs and knitted necklines was pretty cool. It made him feel unique, supernatural almost. The soft looping of black that raced down both his arms and emerged on his wrists, their design unknown to anyone other than him, but their presence obvious. Mysterious. And maybe he kind of liked it.

He wasn’t normally a mysterious guy. He was open with his feelings and his opinions, and his friends knew they could rely on him for honesty. But something about the cool air and pumpkins and the coming presence of Halloween just made him want it all the more. Halloween would come and go and he’d revert back to his open self, but for a month he was someone else entirely. It was nice.

A great stress reliever.

And this October would be great too.

That is, it would be great if his damn neighbor would just so happen to be kidnapped by vampires or maybe eaten by a zombie.

Sure, vampires and zombies weren’t real, but one could hope.

When the moving truck had pulled up to the front of the empty shop beside his tattoo parlor, the one that had been vacant since he had moved in six years ago, he hadn’t thought much of it. In fact, he’d been a bit excited to finally have someone right next door, someone he could maybe be friends with, visit on his lunch break, convince to get a funky little tattoo.

But no.

Of course, that’s not what Suga got.

Instead of getting a new friend and some skin to practice on, he got a flower shop and a hunky guy with a bad attitude.

So no, it didn’t go how Suga was expecting.

And now it was October, Suga’s favorite time of year. The time of year where he decorated his tattoo shop to the nines, skeletons and bats and cobwebs everywhere. And the guy next door was ruining it.

He probably didn’t mean to, Suga tried to tell himself, but still, something underneath his skin clenched whenever he looked at the bright floral displays next door, the ones that drew all the attention from Suga’s Halloween wonderland to the colorful sculptures next door.

No longer were children running and pressing their noses against his glass, mouths gawking in delight as they took in the fruits of the last two months, the displays he’d been planning for longer than necessary, the glorious results of his infinite love for Halloween.

Instead, they were running circles around the sculptures next door, eyes wide as they ran sticky fingers along petals and took in the colors, infinitesimally bright compared to the black dread of the tattoo shop next door.

And Suga hated it.

He wouldn’t have hated it so much, he thought, if the owner of the shop wasn’t so sickenly nice. Suga knew it wasn’t real, that it was just a cover, a saccharine-sweet flavor that lasted in his mouth far after the sip was swallowed, something that coated his tongue with a bitter film that won’t leave, no matter how much water he drank.

The man was always smiling.

Always.

So much so that it was almost creepy.

And Suga knew it was fake. A cover.

Because no one could be that happy all the freaking time.

It wasn’t natural.

The man was smiling all the time. Every second that Suga saw him, he was grinning with mouth wide or smiling softly to himself, head ducked as he arranged flowers on the table in front of him. And it didn’t help that he was startlingly handsome and exactly Suga’s type.

And that’s why it made him so angry.

How dare he?

How dare he look like… like that. How dare he look like that and be the fakest person on the earth.

No one else seemed to notice though, all taken in by the lightness of his smiles and his blinding white teeth. No one else seemed to notice what Suga did, the fakeness to everything the man did, the malice behind his smiles.

And it was infuriating.

Absolutely infuriating.

Children and adults alike flocked to the man, eager to bask in the warmth of his glow, the glow that everyone except Suga seemed to see. They gathered around him, eyes wide and ears turned toward him as he regaled stories of his youth (though it really wasn’t that long ago, Suga scoffed to himself, acting like he’s some wisened old traveler), tales of travels across the world, of mountains high and oceans wide, of life-threatening perils, breathtaking beauty. It sounded outlandish, something one might read in a fiction novel, and Suga wasn’t sure how much of it he believed.

But no one else had that problem. Everyone who heard his stories was captivated, pulled in, eyes believing and heart in awe.

And no, Suga wasn’t mad that the people who used to press their noses to his store, the friends that owned the other shops on the square, the teens meandering around after school, all seemed to have abandoned Suga for the diet coke sweetness of the man now residing next door.

Okay, maybe he was mad.

Just a little bit.

But who would blame him? He’d always been the center of attention, the beauty with the stunning tattoos and a magic hand, able to weave stories out of ink, able to turn skin into a masterpiece.

So maybe it bothered him just a bit.

Okay, a lot.

He stared out of the big wide window of the shop into the cool fall evening, the sun already setting behind the buildings in front of him. It wasn’t late but the sun had been setting noticeably earlier and earlier and the coming twilight shrouded his shop in darkness. He had Edison bulbs strewn up around the shop inside, a few jack-o-lanterns outside with flickering eyes and mouths to draw people’s attention to his shop. It was cozy, warm on the cold night.

But no one was there.

It was empty, save for the two clients who were positioned on different chairs in the capable hands of his coworkers.

But it was quiet, the only sound the soft buzz of two tattoo guns harmonizing and the flickering of the bulb that threatened to go out anytime.

And next door…

Well, next door there was a party. An extravaganza. It wasn’t wild, not in the slightest, it was something one might think of as a “flower shop party,” if those were even a thing. It was quite a family affair though Suga knew the people there weren’t actually family, rather the familiar faces from the business in the square, the ones that used to gather in the lobby of the tattoo shop to chat. They were all there, every one of them invited to this bright party.

Everyone except Suga and his two employees.

They laughed and joked and their voices tinkled in over the hum of tattoo guns. They raised their glasses together, toasting something Suga couldn’t hear, and then all took a sip, laughing together when they lowered their flutes. The new owner was standing in the middle, in a nice button-down with sleeves rolled that did wonders for his forearms and chest, though Suga wouldn’t admit that to anyone else. He was laughing too, his dark hair pushed back on his head, his eyes clenched shut in joy. A girl placed her hand on his arm and laughed with him.

Staring more intently, Suga noticed the small orange flower that was tucked behind the man’s ear.

He’d noticed it a lot, actually. The man always had a flower there, nestled on the bridge of his ear, color coordinating with the man’s outfit for that day. On anyone else, it would have been cute, but on this man, it was infuriating.

Suga’s heart clenched as he watched the party-goers mingle and laugh, the girl on the man’s arm tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She was stunning too, all dark hair and pale skin.

Reaching up, Suga tucked a piece of his own hair behind his ear. It immediately fell out and back into his face.

He turned away, tearing his eyes away from the soft fairy lights and the dazzling color of the flowers and the ambient presence of the man.

It was fine.

He was fine.

But looking around at the empty shop, at the dead silence, he knew one thing right away.

He was going to take the flower man down.

---

Daichi Sawamura had already fallen in love with the town, the picturesque mountains on his drive to work, the fall colors on the trees, the kindness of the strangers he met.

It was far different from the city, with its bustling traffic and harsh lights and rude residents.

He had chosen the perfect time to move in, not just because of the weather and the scenery, but because of the holiday coming up.

Fall and winter were always calmer for his flower shop, only picking up around Christmas for a short bit. People tended to buy flowers more in the spring and summer, when they were in “season” and the first hints of warmth came riding in on the wind. But having some quiet time was perfect for practicing some new things, for meeting new people, for finally putting together the flower sculptures he’d been wanting to do for years. He just hadn’t had the time.

And Halloween was the perfect time for that. It would give him enough time to get settled, to get his flowers in, and then time to experiment with placement and images before the big holiday. He knew kids would love him, and that was what he was the most excited about.

Especially with the dreary tattoo parlor next door.

It wasn’t that he hated tattoos. In fact, he’d always wanted one and just hadn’t gathered up the courage to get it, but the darkness of the shop was a high contrast to his own bursts of color. It almost took over this whole part of the square, rising higher than all the other shops in two stories instead of one. He had been told upon moving in that the owner of the parlor lived on the second story.

He was thankful his shop had been right next door, that he was able to bring some light and color to the street.

It was depressing, honestly.

The opening party was Kiyoko’s idea, and it was a good one. He mingled around with the attendees, introducing himself to the guests, storing away faces and names as best he could. She’d said it would be a great idea for him to get to meet all the people in the area, make some friends, get his name and his shop out there.

He’d met far too many people, and knew that he’d never be able to remember everyone’s name.

He’d gone to each of the shops surrounding the square to invite the owners and employees to the party, and all had accepted, save for the tattoo parlor next door. A big, nervous-looking guy with hair piled on top of his head in a messy bun had let him know that they were still open during the duration of the party, the late hours being their most profitable, so they wouldn’t be able to make it.

Daichi had nodded, wished out loud to the man that they could have come, but sighed in relief inside that he wouldn’t have to deal with the employees of the tattoo parlor.

He knew that tattoo artists had a certain… stereotype. Big and loud and crass. The opposite of what he wanted the welcome party to be.

But after his speech and the toast, his eyes cut over to the bright windows of the dark building, and his gaze landed on a man standing there, separated from him by a pane of glass, almost glowing in the light of the vintage bulbs inside the shop, his silver hair and pale skin reflecting the light that dusted him.

But then the shape had moved away, turned its back, and Daichi caught a glimpse of the scowl on the man’s face.

He had hoped he’d been wrong about the tattoo parlor, but he was starting to think his initial opinion had been right.

And it was his job to brighten the square, no matter what, or who, he had to tousle with in the process.

---

Their first meeting was uneventful, all things considered. One might have expected their first meeting to be an explosion of emotions and anger and unresolved tension based on what would later come, but in fact, it was almost the opposite.

Well, almost.

There were still emotions lingering under the surface, simmering like a pot set on the stove on low, not quickly bubbling into boiling but steadily building, so much so that one might not notice until the water was rumbling.

The proverbial frog-in-water metaphor.

You didn’t realize it was too late until it was.

It was kind of like that.

Or at least they would later come to realize that.

Of course, after the water had reached that rolling boil.

After the frog was already dead.

It was late morning on an early October day, cloudy and chilly, the weather outside reflecting both their moods, though Suga’s was more noticeable at first. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, as some would say, or rather, he wore his emotions on his face. It was never a question of what exactly Suga was feeling, what he was thinking, where his mind was. It was all obviously spelled out on his face, on the way his eyes widened or squinted, the way his lips curved up or down, the way his shoulders rose in confidence or slumped in defeat. No one had to guess around him. It was great sometimes, when his friends could see that he was struggling and were able to push til he accepted help, but other times he wished they couldn’t see, wished he could marinate in his emotions without being on display to others.

Daichi, on the other hand, was better at hiding. He’d spent countless years tuning his outward appearance to reflect what he wanted it to reflect rather than what lingered inside. It made it easier to disappear, to get people to leave him alone. It had its pros, he knew. He was able to keep the things he wanted to keep a secret hidden beneath a layer of skin and bone. He was able to keep his worries and his tears away from prying eyes that didn’t always have the best intentions. But it had its downfall too, much like Suga. It made it impossible for his friends to know exactly when he was struggling until it was too late, impossible to know till he couldn’t hide any longer and his skin snapped and shattered.

They both had their issues, they both didn’t know how to fix them.

But there they were, meeting in the cool fall morning, Daichi with a bundle of flowers in his hand, his smile bright though it hid his sadness, Suga with a box, his face downcast and dejected, a bit of anger swirling in his eyes.

Daichi hadn’t allowed himself to wallow in his sadness, his homesickness. It wasn’t unusual for him to pretend like things were okay, it was in fact, his default. But the homesickness had hit him full force the night before, running him over as he lay on the couch in his still bare apartment, unable to stop the train from barreling down the tracks, unable to get himself to move out of the way of its wheels, to run.

The move had been good, he kept telling himself, pulling the covers up tighter over his chin, snuggling into the warmth they provided while a cheesy Halloween flick played on the tv across from him. It was a good change, he needed it. Sure, it was lonely now, but it would get better. He knew it would. It would just take time, putting himself out there, introducing himself once again to all the people in the square, trying harder to remember faces and names this time than he had before. He just needed to push through that awkwardness between first meeting and becoming friends, needed to be active in reaching out to people. And yeah, the people he had met that night at the welcome party had been nice, but they already had their friends, their group. He was the outsider looking in, desperate to find people to connect with, though they weren’t in the same predicament, which made things harder. No one else seemed to share his urgency, his desire, everyone else having already forgotten what it felt like to be new, to be the odd one out.

He just needed to push, needed to take risks, needed to initiate.

But initiating was hard.

It was tough.

And as he let the weight of his loneliness hit him, he knew it would be a struggle he didn’t have the energy for, he didn’t have the time for.

Because it already hurt.

So much.

Suga, on the other hand, was unaware of Daichi’s struggle, his own body tired and worn from yet another sleepless night, the insomnia he had been fighting for years had taken to winning more often than he did, and it was beginning to wear on him. The sleeping pills, the melatonin, none of it worked how it used to. He had spent the whole night staring at his ceiling, alternating between curling into himself and starfishing on his back, his eyes wide open as his brain raced. It had been a rough night, one of many, and he was fed up.

He was cranky, he was tired, and the coffee shop hadn’t had his favorite drink that morning, so he’d dejectedly chosen another, something that wouldn’t normally have been a big deal, but after the past few nights, it had been the last straw.

And of course, the drink he received was wrong.

Of course it was.

And of course, he didn’t find out till after he had walked the ten minutes back to the shop, tears pricking his eyes as he slumped into the seat at the desk.

It had been the worst day in a long time and it was only 10 a.m.

He had tried not to cry, had tried to push the tears back, but he had failed, sobbing under the desk in a little ball where no one that walked by could see him. Well, almost no one. Asahi had seen him, his feet sticking out from under the desk just a bit, had heard the tears, had knelt beside Suga with a tissue and a soft smile.

He was thankful for Asahi, he really was. Asahi didn’t force him to explain, didn’t try to pry anything out of him, just sat with him in silence and let Suga cry on his shoulder, getting snot all on his shirt. Suga wished he had been able to stay there forever, safe and hidden from the world, but unfortunately, he had clients later in the day and he still had some errands he needed to run before they got there. He had grabbed the box of Halloween decorations from the storage shed on the back of the shop, then walked back to the front.

At the same time, Daichi had the bright idea to cheer himself up. He gathered some flowers as well as his courage, decided to go door to door and do the initiating, meeting the residents of the shops of the square one by one, handing them each a small flower in return.

A minute later or a minute earlier and they wouldn’t have passed each other, they would have just seen each other retreating into the distance if they even saw each other at all.

But the universe seemed to have other plans.

And the universe cackled in glee.

So instead they collided, the bundle of flowers blocking Daichi’s view, the box of decor blocking Suga’s. Neither had been paying attention, both relying on the other people on the street to be watching and step out of the way or warn them if they were on the brink of running into someone.

But unfortunately for the two, and fortunately for the universe, both had the same thought, the same mindset.

They both hit the ground with a thud, a soft rain of flowers falling around them, drifting down on the soft breeze, the box of decorations strewn out on the ground around them, on top of them, under them.

Suga immediately felt the telltale rip of his jeans, felt the roughness of the concrete on his now bared knees, the small trickle of blood that dropped down.

Daichi’s elbow cracked on the sidewalk, a sharp pain shooting up through his arm to his nose. He rubbed his elbow, soothing it into submission.

And well, maybe the first meeting wasn’t all that uneventful after all.

It’s not every day you run straight into your new neighbor.

Daichi tried to smile, tried to hide the pain and embarrassment, the repressed emotions from the night before behind a wide smile, extending his hand to the silver-haired tattoo artist he hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting until then.

Suga, on the other hand, was done. His face twisted in pain, flicking between anger and tears, and then finally angry tears. He’d had the worst day, and this just took the cake. Of course, the stupid fake florist had run into him. Of course. It was just his luck. He pushed away the hand extending to him, stood up himself.

They stood facing each other, both wincing from the pain, both glaring. Daichi’s smile was cracking, and he knew it but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The fake smile, Suga thought as he tried to take his mind off the sticky feeling of blood running down his leg.

Unfortunately for the universe, neither said a word to the other, just staring and then turning and walking in the directions they had been heading, their backs getting farther and farther apart.

And well, as far as first meetings went, it honestly wasn’t the worst.

But it definitely wasn’t the best either.

---

Later, as Suga angrily recalled the event to a nervous Asahi, Daichi did the same to Kiyoko.

Both Asahi and Kiyoko shook their heads, in awe at how stupid their friends were.

---

Even later as Suga lay in bed, he couldn’t get the image of dark brown hair and chocolate eyes and a bright smile from his mind.

A few blocks over, Daichi’s mind was stuck on pale skin and shimmering hair and honey eyes.

---

The universe grinned.

---

The square had a decade-long tradition of going all out for Halloween. Each shop would put their all into decorating, would even have games and activities for children to participate in, almost like a county fair. Then, on the night of Halloween, the square would swarm with children and parents alike, little ghosts and vampires and zombies and fairies and princesses, and maybe even the occasional fluffy bunny. It was a highlight of the year, something both the shops and the children looked forward to for months leading up to the event.

And Suga was the most invested of all.

He always put his all into decorating, crafting the best activities and competitions in his small tattoo parlor, a place children normally would never step foot in. It definitely helped that the dark antique style of the shop lent itself so perfectly to Halloween. His shop was always the talk of the town, the one the kids rushed to once they entered the square, the line outside his shop to get in to experience whatever magical idea he’d had that year was always long. They left with wide eyes and gaping mouths, squealing to parents and other children about just how cool it had been.

And this year he had the perfect idea.

A haunted maze.

He’d spent weeks planning, drawing up different diagrams to figure out exactly how it would work in his parlor, a measuring tape always at his side to measure and remeasure whenever a new idea hit him.

It would be perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Or, it was going to be.

If the stupid florist next door hadn’t moved in and charmed the square with his floral arrangement and sculptures and mesmerizing good looks.

Suga could see him through the window, working tirelessly on the sculptures, face flushed and sweaty even in the cool fall air.

Suga seethed.

He was the pride and joy of the square come fall time. His shop was the one people flocked to, talked about for the rest of the year.

And he wasn’t going to lose to some handsome newcomer.

The man may not have known it yet, but he had brought about the wrath of Sugawara Koushi.

And Sugawara Koushi never lost.

Never.

Meanwhile, outside in the brisk morning, Daichi meticulously placed another flower, stepping back and walking around the arrangement to make sure it worked. After his run-in with the angry tattoo artist, he’d been even more motivated to make a good first impression at the Halloween event this year. Especially if he wanted the kids to come over to his side of the square. He was sure that it was almost empty during the event, all the kids staying far away from the dreary tattoo parlor with its grumpy owner.

---

They finally met, two weeks before Halloween. Well, officially met.

Since Daichi had moved in, Asahi had done his very best to welcome the newcomer, much to Suga’s chagrin. It was Asahi. And Suga couldn’t stop him from fraternizing with the enemy or even making friends with him.

And after weeks of hearing the two of them grumble and groan about the other, Asahi had had enough.

They were both idiots. Both of them.

They hated each other’s guts and they hadn’t even met.

And Asahi knew they’d be the best of friends if they just took the time to get to know each other.

He just knew it.

So he crafted a plan.

He would invite both of them to coffee, not telling the other he had invited them both. They’d meet, realize the other wasn’t as bad as they had thought, and they would all three laugh about it.

Unfortunately for Asahi, that is not what happened.

To their benefit, neither had run when they’d seen the other. They hadn’t launched into a shooting match right away, either.

But Asahi watched with nerves growing as they glared at each other.

Oh no.

“Suga, this is Sawamura Daichi. Daichi, this is Sugawara Koushi.”

They shook hands over the table, neither’s glare lessening as they stared at each other.

“Pleasure to meet you, Sugawara,” Daichi said, almost spitting.

“Likewise,” Suga retorted.

Oh no.

Oh no, this wasn’t what he wanted.

Not at all.

This was a mistake.

A big mistake.

Asahi had made a terrible mistake.

“Umm, I think you guys would be really good friends if you got to know each other. Suga, Daichi was telling me that he’s excited for the Halloween event coming up and has been planning a super cool event for the kids!”

Daichi nodded, his eyes not blinking as he stared at Suga. “Yeah. Someone’s gotta do something for the kids.”

Suga bristled.

Asahi flinched.

“I’ll have you know, Sawamura, that my shop is the pride and joy of the square on Halloween. We don’t need your flowers to distract from what the kids really want.”

“Are you sure about that? I know I wouldn’t want to step foot in your black hole of a shop. I’d be worried about actual monsters.”

Asahi gulped.

“Oh, you’ve gone too far, Sawamura. The kids love my shop. You’ll see. You’ll know when they come flocking to me and you’re left standing by yourself in a mass of neglected flowers.”

Daichi’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a challenge, Sugawara?”

Suga’s eyes blazed. “If you want it to be.”

Daichi stood up, knocking the chair back, Suga jumping up right after.

Everyone else in the coffee shop had turned to look, to watch what was going down between the two, and Asahi’s face reddened as he slunk further into his own seat.

A horrible mistake.

“Then it’s on, Sugawara. We battle for the most kids coming on Halloween.”

Suga nodded. “It’s on. Winner gets to pick a tattoo for the loser.”

Daichi visibly flinched, then forced himself to relax. “It’s a battle then.”

They both reached out, shaking each other’s hands, then walked out of the coffee shop together, their shoulders bumping (mostly on purpose, Asahi could tell, each one trying to trip the other), leaving Asahi alone at the table.

Oh, what a horrible mistake.

---

The universe smiled, cracked her knuckles, and got to work.

---

The rest of the square could feel the tension between the two. It was palpable, messing with the cool air like breaths forming solid, traipsing through sidewalks and alleyways, wrapping everyone in its horrid embrace.

Daichi and Suga didn’t notice, however, that the rest of the square seemed to suddenly be keeping a wide berth to their end of the square. They were both too focused on each other to notice.

Daichi put all his effort into crafting his sculptures, creating mythical monsters from delicate petals, minotaurs and unicorns and dragons. Halloween was already scary enough for children, and he knew they’d be needing something soft and non-threatening, and what better than a unicorn made out of flowers? It was perfect, and he knew it. Especially when next door seemed to be going all out in the opposite direction.

Daichi watched as big walls of wood were rolled to the entryway of the tattoo parlor, left outside in a row. Every couple of hours, Suga would come out with a bucket of pitch-black paint, his brush running over the wood in wide swatches, encompassing the wood completely in ebony. There were dozens of boxes stacked outside the shop, and once when Suga left to go get lunch, Daichi may have accidentally peeked inside one, then quickly shut it. He didn’t want to think about the lifelike spiders and cobwebs he had seen inside.

And then, the day after, Daichi had come back from his own lunch to find one of the spiders resting peacefully on his half-done phoenix.

If he had tried to play it off like he hadn’t been scared out of his wits, he would have been lying. In reality, he had jumped into the air, a scream stuck in his throat, and then fallen to the ground in a ball. It didn’t take him long to realize that the spider wasn’t real and only plastic, not when he immediately heard the cackling laughter of the tattoo artist from behind the sculpture of the unicorn.

Daichi had chased after him, but the beautiful silver-haired man had a head start and took off into the safety of his own store, a mess of faux cobwebs trailing behind him.

He eased himself to a stop, rested his palms on his knees, begging his heart to slow down, to calm down.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t a real spider.

But he looked up at the big window of the tattoo parlor, his eyes making contact with the grinning eyes of the tattoo artist, and he knew immediately that he had no option but to retaliate.

Even if the image of Suga laughing was now ingrained in his mind, the man’s head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, his perfect bowed lips stretched into a grin.

It was war.

---

When Suga opened the box containing the spiders the next day, he should have seen it coming.

Every single spider was gone, replaced with some type of spidery flower, a single post-it note on top with a little hand-drawn smiley face.

He should have been expecting it.

He really should have.

He had started this war. (Or, really Daichi had started it with his dumb comment, but Suga had made the first strategic move in the real-life game of chess that this was turning into.)

And honestly, it really wasn’t a bad move.

If he hadn’t been so fed up with Daichi, he would have smiled at the box of flowers.

But he was fed up with Daichi.

So instead he held back his smile, the force turning it into more of a grimace.

So this was his move, huh? Weak.

The only problem was, now Suga had no clue where his spiders were located.

He picked up the box, marching it inside his shop, dumping all the flowers to the floor.

And he set to work.

---

Taking the spiders after replacing them with flowers hadn’t been a part of his plan, but once he was there surrounded by them on the floor, he hadn’t been able to resist. Daichi wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do with them just yet, but he’d think of something.

Something good.

The bell above his door jingled and he looked up from the counter, pushing the box of spiders under the counter and out of view with his foot.

Oh, it was just Asahi.

“Good afternoon, Asahi. What brings you here today?”

Asahi looked flustered, more than usual.

“Daichi, please end this stupid war with Suga. I know you guys would be friends if you just talked. Please, I beg you.”

Daichi sighed. “Asahi, I’m sorry, but the war has already begun. Suga started it, I just made an opposing move. Why don’t you ask him, since he was the one who struck first?”

Asahi rubbed his fingers into his temple, mussing his hair. “Daichi, please. I’ve tried talking to Suga and he won’t listen. He’s always been competitive and there’s going to be no way to pull him out of this unless you talk to him.”

Turning to the bundle of flowers on the counter, Daichi slipped a ribbon around them, pulling it tight into a perfect bow.

A perfect bow…

Suga’s lips…

He shook his head, clearing the image from his mind. What was he doing? What was going on? He’d never been like this before, never been so flustered by something like this.

“Sorry, Asahi. I can’t. This is a battle I won’t be losing.”

I can’t be losing.

Losing would mean he’d let Suga get to him. Let the man with a stubborn gaze and lithe body and milky skin…

Oh god.

What was wrong with him?

“No matter how pretty or good looking he is, he’s going down.”

He’d meant to say it to himself, not realizing his mouth had opened as he thought the words, letting them spill out into the open.

Asahi’s eyebrow quirked, the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Pretty, huh?”

The flush that graced Daichi’s face came suddenly. “I- that’s not- I didn’t mean-”

“No, no, it’s okay, Daichi. You said exactly what you meant and I can’t fault you for that.”

“No, Asahi, I didn’t-”

“Have a good day, Daichi. Good luck with your… battle.”

And with that, Asahi was gone and Daichi was left staring at the door, the ribbon in his hands falling to the counter below.

---

What had originally been something that kept Asahi up late into the night with worry had started to become something different with this new revelation.

Daichi liked Suga.

Daichi liked Suga.

Even if he didn’t know it yet, it was true. He couldn’t deny it, not after the slip up at the flower shop.

And Asahi had caught Suga staring out the window of the tattoo parlor at the florist while he worked more than a few times and had a funny feeling that the affection was mutual.

Maybe it would be okay. If Asahi stepped back, maybe they would figure it out themselves, realize their budding feelings for each other and the war would stop, and Asahi would be free from his spot stuck squarely in the middle.

If only he had been right.

But unfortunately for Asahi, he only found himself even more pulled in two.

---

Daichi should have known that Suga would retaliate by using his own flowers against him. Maybe leaving a whole box of flowers hadn’t been the best move.

Because when he opened the door to his shop two mornings later and turned on the light, he ran straight into a giant spider formed entirely of flowers.

He didn’t know when Suga had had the time to craft such a perfect sculpture of his own. Daichi's own floral sculptures were taking forever to complete, but somehow Suga had succeeded in record time. And it was stunning with legs stretched so perfectly across the floor, wires woven through the flowers holding the legs up enough that the body wasn’t resting on the ground but floating over it, much like a real spider.

It was stunning.

Daichi shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, Suga was an artist himself. But Daichi seemed to have forgotten that detail.

He almost didn’t want to move the spider, knowing it probably wouldn’t last the journey, but it was blocking the entrance and he really didn’t have much of a choice.

He hated to tear it down, though.

As he carefully slid the legs across the floor, moving one a few inches before doing the same with the other seven, slow and steady to keep the body from collapsing in on itself, he wondered why he felt so attached to something his sworn enemy had crafted, why he was so focused on not bruising the flowers that made up the spider.

He shouldn’t feel like this. He should have kicked the spider, watched it shatter on the floor around him, thrown the whole thing away. When he had replaced the spiders with the flowers, he had already counted the flowers as lost, so he wasn’t worried about trying to salvage them. It should have been easy.

Yet for some unknown reason, he couldn’t.

But he didn’t let himself focus on the thoughts running through his mind, his heart. He couldn’t ponder them, he couldn’t risk them getting in the way of his mission, his war.

Something deep down inside of him knew that they would if he let them fester, if he let them grow.

So he tamped them down. He could deal with them later, when Halloween was over and he would laugh at the new ink of his choosing scattered across Suga’s pale, smooth skin, mixing in perfectly with the moles Daichi was sure dotted the rest of his body.

No, don’t think about Suga’s body.

Don’t think about a constellation of moles on his collar, his back, his stomach. Lips gently brushing each and every mole, hands firmly planted on hips, mouth running steadily lower…

Daichi blocked the thought from his head with a firm slap to the side of his face.

He needed to get a hold of himself.

So what if Suga was stunningly beautiful? It didn’t matter. Suga was his enemy, his rival. And Daichi couldn’t let anything deter him from his mission.

Not even the thought of soft lips on his, a steady hand from years of tattooing running through his hair, a knee slotted between his legs…

---

Suga blinked, rubbing his eyes with his palms. His coffee cup was empty, a true tragedy, one of the Shakespearian variety. He hadn’t taken the time to look at himself in the mirror that morning, knowing full well that the skin under his eyes would be purple and dark, his skin ghostly and dull.

He’d spent two full nights working on the flower spider, letting the adrenaline carry him through two days and nights without sleep, but once he had positioned the spider in the flower shop and slipped quickly out, the adrenaline had worn off and he’d crashed.

Hard.

He pulled the collar of the black turtleneck up over his nose, burying himself into the thick woven wool. Maybe he had time to take a nap before they opened for the morning. He closed his eyes.

A sound from the back of the shop jolted him up, his eyes flying open as he searched for the source of the noise.

No, he couldn’t sleep.

Sleep was for the weak.

Daichi would know.

Daichi would somehow know he was asleep, would use the opportunity to exact his revenge.

Suga couldn’t sleep.

“Oh, sorry, Suga. Didn’t mean to startle you,” a familiar voice tumbled from the back.

Suga relaxed in his chair, pulling the turtleneck back down to where it was supposed to be. “No worries, Asahi. I didn’t know you were here yet.”

Asahi meandered into sight, his hands twisting. “Gee, Suga, you don’t look too hot. Maybe you should get some coffee.”

Sighing, Suga waved his travel mug. “I drank a whole mug already and I’m all out.”

“Why don’t you run to the coffee shop to grab both of us a drink? My treat. I’ll watch the shop while you’re gone.”

“Oh, Asahi, are you sure?”

Asahi nodded, shooing Suga out with his hands. “I’m sure. Plus, it's better than you being miserable all day long, I’m offering for my own safety.”

Suga laughed, slapping Asahi lightly. “I knew there was an ulterior motive.”

“What, I can’t just be a good friend?”

Rolling his eyes, Asahi pushed Suga out, sliding his card into Suga’s palm before shutting the door firmly and locking it, effectively blocking Suga from coming back inside until he came back with coffee for both of them.

Suga could fire Asahi for that, insubordination and all that, but he never would, and Asahi knew it.

Though, maybe he’d make a comment about it later, just to see Asahi’s reaction.

Maybe he’d faint.

Suga skipped down the sidewalk, letting the life of the fall morning air fill his lungs and his body. It was cold enough to wake him, to tear away the haze that had been covering him all morning. It was the perfect day. A shame he had to spend the whole day inside.

As he passed the flower shop, he forced himself to not look in through the window. He couldn’t give himself away, though he ached to know if Daichi had found the spider yet. He was pretty proud of it. It had been a great idea and he was impressed with himself for pulling it off in such a short amount of time.

It was worth it, even if he missed two whole nights of sleep.

Definitely worth it.

He hurried past the shop, strolling to the coffee shop at the end of the street. The bell jingled with a familiar welcome and he positioned himself in line.

“What a pleasant surprise, Sugawara.”

He froze as the deep, baritone voice washed over him, the hair on his arms raising under his sweater, something he knew wasn’t just from fear.

He turned slowly, careful not to let his gaze waver as his eyes met the warm brown ones of the man in line behind him.

“Morning, Sawamura. Anything interesting happen this morning?”

Shoot, he shouldn’t have said that. He didn’t know if Daichi had even gone to his shop yet or if this was his stop on the way there. He’d just given himself away.

But then one of Daichi’s eyebrows raised and his head cocked, a smirk forming.

Something in Suga’s stomach fluttered at the sight.

“Oh, a very interesting morning indeed. A little bug somehow managed to break into my shop during the night and I can’t wrap my brain around how it got in.”

Suga grinned, cocking his own head to mock Daichi. “Hmm, an interesting thought. Let me know if you ever figure it out. Can’t have little bugs running around unsupervised.”

A soft red flush dusted Daihi’s cheeks and Suga’s hands twitched at his side, fighting the urge to reach out and run fingers along the crimson cheeks. He stuffed them into his pockets.

Daichi was staring at him still, mouth upturned just the slightest bit. “I better find a way to keep them out or I’ll need to hire an exterminator. I can’t have a bug problem. They’ll ruin my precious flowers.”

“It’s a shame your precious flowers are so fragile, Sawamura. It would be tragic if the little bugs got to them.”

The warm amber eyes narrowed.

“But who am I to tell you what to do? I'm just a tattoo artist. I know nothing about bugs.”

Daichi’s shoulders pushed back, his chest puffed in confidence, like a gorilla trying to make itself seem bigger, and oh god, how Suga wanted to place his hands on that firm chest, slip them up under the soft pumpkin sweater.

No.

Oh shit.

Nope nope nope.

He shook his head.

“Did the little bug crawl into your brain through your ear, Sugawara? Not that that would be an issue, since there’s not much up there to begin with.”

A horrible insult. Suga almost retorted, but then…

Was Daichi?

Was Daichi smiling?

“Excuse me?”

Neither Daichi nor Suga heard the soft voice of the cashier.

“Aww, it’s a shame you think your insult is worthwhile, Sawamura. Maybe your own head needs some work. Keep exercising those insults, maybe your brain will get as big as your thighs-”

“My what?”

Oh no.

“Nevermind that. Better watch out for that little bug. It might come creeping in at any moment.”

“Excuse me!”

Blinking, they both turned to the now exasperated cashier.

“You’re holding up the line. Are you ordering or not? If not, kindly step away so the next person can order.”

“Oh, sorry,” Suga said, embarrassment flushing his face. He stepped forward to the counter, suddenly aware of how much space there was between him and the counter, how many people before them had ordered and moved on without them noticing or moving. “I’ll take two lattes, please.”

He handed the cashier the card, leaving a bigger tip than normal to make up for his lack of common sense. He’d pay Asahi back for that part.

Moving down to the pickup counter to wait, Suga watched as Daichi stepped up to place his own order. Watched the man smile, that stupid fake smile Suga had been so turned off by since the beginning, but now as he watched, he began to wonder if it was really fake at all. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he had misjudged the man.

But no, Daichi had still insulted him and they still had their challenge, as charming as Daichi may be. He couldn’t let the end goal escape him. If he did, it was all over. He wouldn’t stand a chance.

But maybe…

Maybe after.

Maybe after Halloween, after the challenge was over, the tattoo given. Maybe they could start over, shake hands and introduce themselves like it was the first time.

And maybe Asahi was right. Maybe they could be friends.

Daichi strode over to where Suga was standing, moving to where they were side by side, their shoulders bumping. His shoulder burned where they touched.

“Don’t think this is over.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on it.”

They grabbed their drinks, pushed out by the barista at the same time, their eyes flicking to each other as their knuckles brushed.

And then they left, out of the inviting warmth of the coffee shop and into the cold, striding side by side on the sidewalk until they reached Daichi’s flower shop.

Daichi turned to Suga. “A nice move, by the way. I don’t know how you did that in such a short amount of time.”

Without thinking, Suga smiled. “Two sleepless nights, that’s how. Hence the coffee.”

Daichi smiled. “I hope you know, you’re going down.”

“Funny you should think that. You’re the one walking away from this with a tattoo of a dick on your ass.”

“Oh, you just gave me the perfect idea for your tattoo. A tattoo of an ass on your dick.”

Suga’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Then you better not lose,” Daichi tossed over his shoulder as he entered the shop.

Oh, Suga wasn’t going to lose.

It was a war.

And he didn’t lose wars.

And well, if he got to see Daichi’s butt as he gave him the tattoo, that would just be part of the sweet, sweet victory.

---

Daichi needed a plan. He was losing. Badly. After Suga’s break-in into his shop and the simultaneous creation of the flower spider, he had fallen behind. None of his ideas had been that big, that bold.

And there was only a week til Halloween.

A week until their war would end.

If he were being honest, he had completely forgotten that this part wasn’t actually the battle that declared the winner. It was the number of kids who entered their shops on Halloween night, not how creatively they could mess with each other til then.

And he’d fallen desperately behind in the real battle too.

His sculptures were nowhere near done, and he had a week.

He winced at the number of sleepless nights he’d have to face to get his wax museum of flowers done in time.

That was what mattered. Not the rivalry with Suga.

But it wouldn’t hurt to do one more thing, right? He could do that, it wouldn’t put him too far behind. He could get Suga back for the spider and still finish his sculptures, make them perfect to bring all the kids and thus win.

And he still had Suga’s box of spiders.

He should probably return those. And it wouldn’t hurt to do it in a way that won him some points in the contest.

He pulled the box out from under the counter where he had hidden it, let his gaze wander over to the fresh shipment of flowers he had received that morning.

He smirked.

---

It had been three days since Suga had constructed the spider and three days since he’d had a full conversation with Daichi.

Something was up.

Sure, he’d seen Daichi a few times since then, but it was just in passing, both of them glaring at each other as they passed.

Three days since the spider incident and he was beginning to worry.

Daichi was up to something, he just knew it. He couldn’t prove it, but he knew it. Daichi was too untrustworthy to let it pass without striking back.

“Suga, I’m telling you the truth. He likes you. Just call off the war. It will be better for everyone.”

Asahi was leaning over the desk where Suga sat, his hair dropping out of its messy bun.

Suga scoffed.

“What are you on about? He doesn’t like me. He’s my sworn enemy, Asahi.”

A groan emitted from under the mess of hair. “Suga, it’s true. He likes you. And you like him.”

“Asahi, you’ve completely lost it. I don’t like him, and he doesn’t like me. Has he gotten to you? He’s trying to pull you over to his side, steal you from me. You can’t trust him, Asahi. I thought you were better than that.”

Asahi sighed, reaching out and grabbing one of the bite-size bars from the candy bowl on the counter and shoving it in his mouth, his whole body wilting into the desk.

“Suga, please. Please spare me.”

“Asahi, stand up straight and take a stand with me! Are you going to let this man crush my dignity, my reputation? It’s a war, Asahi, and war doesn’t leave survivors.”

“It doesn’t have to be a war! Just talk to him! Please!”

“Sorry, Asahi. I’m not giving up. I’m not a coward.”

Suga looked pointedly at Asahi, hoping he got the message. Asahi nodded, grabbing another handful of candy.

“Fine, fine. But don’t say I didn’t tell you, Suga. Sooner or later you’re gonna come crying back to me about how you were wrong and I was right and you messed everything up.”

“You worry too much,” Suga left, plucking one of the candy bars from Asahi’s clenched fist. “It will be fine.”

---

It was not fine.

Suga had been right.

Daichi had been up to something.

That little shit.

He spent the night assembling the maze around part of the shop, leaving the front entrance and the first tattoo cubicle open for customers. Throughout the rest of the shop, he removed all the furniture and equipment, took all the framed photos of tattoos and ink off the walls, pushed everything into the storage shed. He constructed his maze, carefully relying on the blueprint he had drawn up after much trial and error. The rest of it would go up on Halloween, after they shut down for the day and he could move the remaining furniture and equipment out.

And, after slotting the last wooden wall into its spot, he fell asleep.

He didn't mean to fall asleep. After all, he lived just upstairs and had a warm, soft bed to fall into. But, unfortunately, after sitting down and leaning against the wall he had put up, he passed out.

And, upon waking with the sun streaming through the windows and dusting over the top of the walls, he realized his mistake.

He was still leaning on the wooden wall, but had slid down partway and was now slumping on it instead, his back and neck already aching from the horrible position and lack of pillow. But that wasn’t the first thing he noticed.

Scattered all around him, sneaking up all the walls and skittering across the floor, resting on every available surface, were hundreds of little plastic spiders.

Each one had a flower attached to it, just the head of the flower, something almost raspberry-colored with crisp white edges and a white star blooming from the center. And on the floor in front of him were a few dozen flowers all arranged to form a sentence.

“I thought your place could use some cheering up because soon I’ll be the one cheering.”

Suga really didn’t have it in him to be mad. It was clever, it was cute, and now he had his spiders back and could position them in their rightful places, nestled in the maze to scare children like they were supposed to.

Wait.

Oh shit. Daichi had seen him sleeping. Daichi had somehow crept into the tattoo parlor (did he lock the doors? Oh, he hadn’t, he had been planning on locking them when he left for the night and then, well…) and spent an hour or more placing the spiders, all while Suga was crumpled against the wall, probably snoring.

He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, grimacing at the feeling.

And drooling. Of course, he had been drooling.

He pushed himself up, gathering in the image of all the spiders, the bursts of color all throughout the room.

Asahi would be there soon. He needed to get all the spiders cleaned up before Asahi got there because for some reason Asahi already didn’t want him to continue his little battle, and he didn’t want Asahi finding out that Daichi had snuck in under Suga’s not so watchful gaze. And he definitely didn’t want Asahi finding out that he hadn’t locked the doors. The man would have a heart attack.

Unfortunately for Suga, the back door creaked open right at that moment, and a startled squeak followed soon after.

“Uhh, Suga? Are you here?”

“In here, Asahi.”

“Where? I can’t see you?”

“In the maze.”

“Where in the maze?”

“Hold on, I’ll come to you.”

He pushed himself up and exited the maze, a left and then another left and a right.

Asahi was standing there, his mouth open as he stared at the flowers.

Damn, Daichi had gotten the whole place. How many flowers were there? Suga had ordered a thousand of the plastic spiders (go big or go home) but there was no way Daichi had taken the time to place all of them. Right?

Oh gosh, how much were the flowers worth? How much had Daichi wasted?

“Suga, please tell me you did this?”

Suga shrugged, knowing he couldn’t lie, and even if he could, Asahi wouldn’t believe him.

“Suga!”

“Yeah, I know I know. Don’t throw a fit. I’ll get them all cleaned up.”

He reached out to start plucking the spiders and flowers off the nearest wall, but Asahi stopped him, grabbing one of the flowers out from under Suga’s hand.

“Suga, these are dianthus.”

“So? When did you become so knowledgeable about flowers?”

“I went through a bit of a phase in college. But these are dianthus!”

Suga’s brows furrowed. “Yeah, you said that already.”

“Do you know what they mean?”

“Do I look like I know what they mean?”

“No, but you don’t have to be so snippy about it. I can tell you didn’t sleep well last night, and don’t try to argue with me, I know. They’re dianthus! They symbolize love, affection, and admiration! Don’t you get it, Suga! I was right!”

Suga sighed, gathering up the flowers and depositing them into a nearby box. “Asahi, I think you’re reading too much into this. They’re just flowers. I know you’ve somehow convinced yourself that he has feelings for me, and I don’t know how you did, but I’m sure he just used whatever flower he had an excess of. I don’t think they mean anything Asahi. Not everything has to mean something.”

“Suga, I’m not reading too much into it. Even if it was whatever flower he had extra of, he’s a florist, and they’re trained to know the language of flowers! It’s something so ingrained in him, he’d know, even subconsciously, what the flower meant! And he wouldn’t have used them if he didn’t mean it!”

“I still think you’re reading too much into this. If he was so worried about what they meant, why didn’t he use something to represent mortal enemies or, I don’t know, a sworn rivalry. Something that said, ‘Go to hell!’ instead.”

Asahi groaned again, slumping on the wall. He pulled a piece of candy from the pocket of his cardigan, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth.

“Fine, don’t believe me. See if I care.”

Wrapping his arms around Asahi, Suga buried his face into Asahi’s warm neck. “Sorry, Asahi. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole. Forgive me?”

“Always.”

“Are your pockets stuffed with candy?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

---

It was pure luck that the door to the tattoo parlor was open. He was planning on placing the spiders all along the outside of the building and the windows, but when he arrived there was a light on inside and the door was cracked.

So who could blame him?

He snuck in, careful to not let the door slam behind him and give him away. He crept through the shop, crouched low behind the maze walls, and hoped desperately that no one passed by the outside of the shop and saw him. He knew he looked incredibly suspicious.

And then he found Suga, the tattoo artist sprawled out in what looked like an achingly uncomfortable position, mouth hanging open and hair scattered on the maze wall he was leaning on.

For a moment Daichi’s heart stopped, unsure if the other man was breathing.

But then a loud snorting snore emitted from the silver-haired man and Daichi released his breath, trying to hold in the laughter.

He couldn’t stop looking at the man, creepy as he knew it was. Suga was something otherworldly when he was asleep, soft and vulnerable with all his anxieties gone. Daichi wanted more than anything to crawl over to the man, to brush his hair behind his ears, to press a soft kiss to the beauty mark under his eye.

But he couldn’t.

It wasn’t right.

And Suga was his enemy. His rival.

So Daichi instead tip-toed around the slumbering man, careful not to disturb him, and spent the better part of an hour arranging the spiders and flowers around the shop.

He left through the front door, making sure it clicked shut behind him, his heart racing.

He may have won this battle.

But then why did his insides feel so twisted?

---

Asahi had had enough. He was done.

They were both idiots.

And both obviously into each other. After the flower incident, Asahi was even more sure.

Thankfully Halloween was tomorrow, and then it would end. He just needed to get through one more day. He could do that.

He fished a Milky Way out of his pocket and tossed it into his mouth, chewing quickly.

It would be all over soon.

---

Halloween came with the coldest morning of the year so far, dark and dreary and absolutely perfect. Suga wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

The shop was open, but only until mid-afternoon. Then he could remove the remaining equipment, set up the last few pieces of wall, and finish decorating, making sure everything was spooktacularly perfect.

He watched out the window as Daichi finished his sculptures, fastening the flower horn on the unicorn and placing the antlers on the elk. Daichi hadn’t kept to the fantasy animals theme and instead had just gone “animals” and created an entire zoo out of flowers.

Suga thought about going over there at night, pouring weed killer on the sculptures, but he couldn’t. His heart clenched even at just the thought. He didn’t have time, or really the energy, to make the next move since waking up surrounded by flowers and spiders, but it was okay.

He was going to crush Daichi tonight.

Next door, Daichi caught himself looking over every few seconds at the man standing inside the tattoo parlor, coffee mug in hand. He was ready for it to be over. He was tired of fighting, of looking in every corner or dark space he passed like Suga might jump out, or a spider.

Luckily for both of them, the day passed quickly, and soon the sun was setting and the event was starting.

The square began to fill with children, parents pulled behind eager hands.

Suga stood outside the tattoo parlor, adjusting his bowtie. He’d gone simple, a classic vampire, but his artistic skills translated perfectly into special effects makeup, and he looked positively terrifying, his skin cold and lifeless, the beauty mark under his eyes menacing in a way it normally wasn’t.

The door to the flower shop creaked open, and Daichi stepped out.

Or, rather a fairy stepped out.

Suga snickered into his hand.

Daichi was dressed in a light blue tuxedo, a matching glitter tutu around his waist. His face shimmered under the moonlight, swirls of sparkles and glitter. He had child-sized wings on his back, definitely found at a party store, probably a set with the tutu based on how the elastic waist was digging into his body. And then, on his head, nestled in slicked-back hair, a flower crown, dainty and pastel.

“Off to meet the wizard, Sawamura?”

Daichi turned to him, grinning. “Of course. I would ask you if you had a meeting with the devil but we already know you’re best friends.”

Daichi smirked, a stark contrast to the glitter on his face, and Suga couldn’t take him seriously.

“Well, Sawamura, this is it. Are you ready to enjoy your last night with a bare ass?”

“Hmm, I think I’ve got some good time left with that, Sugawara. It’s you I should be worried for.”

“May the best man win.”

“May the best man win.”

Asahi and Kiyoko had both begrudgingly agreed to judge, Kiyoko standing outside the tattoo parlor to tally the kids going in, Asahi stationed in front of the flower shop. Both had sworn to truth and honor, threatened with death if they dared cheat.

Soon the square was swarming with children and Daichi and Suga were both swept up in the night, taking meticulous glances at each other to judge their standing.

Suga had designed temporary tattoos to give away to any kid who made it out of the maze, and kids were lining up in excitement, jumping and clamoring to get in.

Daichi, on the other hand, had made mini flower crowns for any child that entered and soon the square was dotted with kids in little flower crowns. He would have counted the sight as a victory if there hadn’t been just as many kids with the distinct shape of a temporary tattoo on faces or arms, and some of them with both flower crown and tattoo.

He didn’t have time to talk to Suga, busy with taking kids through the sculpture garden and Suga just as busy guiding kids through the maze. He was having fun, he really was, but…

But he kind of wished he’d been able to spend the night with Suga.

Next door in the middle of the maze, the same thought passed through Suga’s brain.

The night passed quickly, too quickly, and the steady stream of kids became a trickle and then stopped completely. The owners of the shops on the square began to clean up, waving to each other as they locked up and headed home.

Suga followed the last kid out of the maze, giving the little pirate a high five and a tattoo before sending her to her mother who was waiting outside.

Daichi walked hand in hand with the little boy out of the flower shop, dropping a flower crown onto his curls.

Asahi and Kiyoko stuffed the notepads into their pockets.

“Hey, Daichi, I’m heading home.”

“What about the contest?” Suga wailed, running out from the parlor. “Who won?”

“Yeah, Kiyoko,” Daichi urged, running to meet Suga in the middle where Asahi and Kiyoko were standing. “Tell us who won. We already know it was me but I want the victory to be heard by everyone.”

“The only people who are going to hear your victory are in your head, Sawamura, because it's only in your dreams.”

Asahi popped a Snickers. “I’m gonna go home too. I’m so tired. We can calculate the tallies tomorrow, it's too late for this. Just shake hands and go home.”

Both Daichi and Suga protested, but the scorekeepers walked off, Kiyoko to her car in the parking lot and Asahi back into the parlor to exit out to the back lot.

Suga turned towards Daichi. “We all know I won. It’s not even worth the count.” He waved his hand dramatically between them. “Honestly, I don’t know why you even tried. It’s just more effort on your end for no reward.”

Smirking, Daichi stepped closer. “Is that so, Sugawara? That confident in your victory? You know what they say. Pride comes before the fall.”

Suga eyed the diminishing space between them then made a calculating step toward Daichi. “You’re so dumb, Sawamura.”

He could feel Daichi’s breath between them, their noses inches apart as neither dared to break eye contact. His whole body buzzed, something that didn’t come with just an overabundance of caffeine and sugar.

Daichi gulped, his hand hovering between them, his eyes boring into the twinkling honey eyes in front of him. “And what are you going to do about it?” he whispered.

Pale hands grabbed either side of his face and pulled, warm lips connecting with his. Startled, he reached out to grab something, his hand hitting one of the outside flower statues which tittered and then tumbled to the ground, knocking another in the process, a domino effect that sent flowers flying up in the air around them.

Suga pulled back, alarmed at the noise as the statues crashed to the ground, but then Daichi’s hands were on his hips and Daichi’s lips reconnected with his, hungry and wanting, licking like fire. He let his own hands wander into Daichi’s hair, weaving through the soft strands, pulling Daichi’s mouth deeper into his.

They stumbled backward into the open door of the tattoo parlor, their mouths never disconnecting even when they pitched in an effort to keep themselves upright.

Neither saw Asahi come back in through the back door.

“Hey, Suga have you seen-”

Clasping a hand over his eyes, he walked backward back out of the parlor. “You know what, I’ll come back for it tomorrow. Have a good night.” He grabbed the plastic pumpkin of leftover candy. “I’m taking this with me.”

Neither heard him, unaware that he had even been there.

Suga’s lips slotted farther into Daichi’s, his hands pushing up through the jacket of Daichi’s suit, smoothing out over Daichi’s chest. Daichi’s hands gripped his hips tighter, pulled him closer in until their bodies were flush.

Suga reached out to the wall to hold himself up, to steady himself and keep from melting to the ground, but the walls that had stayed up for so long and even lasted through Suga sleeping on them took that moment to fall.

Startled, Daichi laughed against Suga’s mouth. Suga joined in, pulling away just enough to catch his breath as the walls caved in.

“I guess Asahi was right,” he giggled, leaning to press his head to Daichi’s neck, depositing a soft kiss there. “He tried to tell me.”

Daichi gulped under the warmth of Suga’s lips, letting his hands leave the back of Suga’s hips and slip down to rest them on his butt. “What did he try to tell you?”

“That you were into me.”

“As if you aren’t just as much into me.”

“Me? Into you? Whatever gave you that idea.”

Daichi laughed, squeezing Suga’s butt to bring him closer. “Something about the way you kissed me out there gave it away pretty quickly.”

Suga grinned, his teeth glowing white under the light of the moon, the vampire fangs still there giving him a mischievous look. “Well, that’s a shame. I guess you’re stuck with me then.” He moved his hands to lace around Daichi’s neck.

A soft finger brushed across Suga’s cheek. “You’ve got some glitter there.”

Suga eyed the pale makeup that was smudged across Daichi’s face. “You didn’t fare much better, Sawamura.”

“Call me Daichi.”

“Alright, Daichi. Call me Your Majesty because we both know I won this contest.” The hand previously on his cheek smacked his shoulder. “Okay fine, you don’t have to. But call me Suga.”

“Well, Suga, it’s nice to meet you. Can we start this from the beginning this time?”

“Why start at the beginning when what we did before got us here?”

Daichi’s hand returned to Suga’s face, his heart racing as he drew circles with the pad of his thumb around the beauty mark there. “I think I can firmly and undoubtedly say I won if it ends like this.”

But Suga couldn’t let him have it, not after everything they’d been through. His hands worked the buttons of Daichi’s dress shirt, pressing up through his chest as Daichi groaned, gripping Suga tighter, leaning down to press a firm kiss to Suga’s mouth.

“Let’s call it a draw.”