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Natsukage has long since been accustomed to exhaustion and heat, courtesy of his profession. Today, however, he doesn’t smell of Sky-Sea-Run—he made sure (ignoring Miumi and his older sister’s pointed giggling) he was dressed decently, wasn’t reeking of chlorine, and best of all, was dry. For once. He had been, perhaps embarrassingly, too aware of this date for weeks and made a decent attempt to prepare in the little time given to him once arriving.
It’s the middle of summer, but fortunately, the sun has yet to set the place ablaze. Instead, the morning light paints CocoAlley a soft mix of oranges rather than its usual sepias, sending Natsukage straight into bittersweet nostalgia. He’s reminded of his disaster of a first meeting with his plus one, which spells yet another disaster, because it keeps leading his thoughts in directions he does not want them in, lest he be subject to smug teasing and embarrassment for the rest of the day.
He’s not in denial. Natsukage already accepted that he fell hard for an idiot in his first year of high school, and god help him, he’s been pathetically pining since then.
The issue is that it’s a death sentence to think about certain things around Nanase. Natsukage isn’t quite sure he’s (both of them, really) ready to cross the line, so to speak.
A car honks noisily in the street by their spot for what seems to be the millionth time, and Natsukage can’t stop his tongue from clicking. His clock’s out of sync, making the oddest sensations jump at him for no reason.
“Should we go in?” Nanase’s voice cuts through the heat haze of his thoughts. “Or maybe I should just bring you back home instead.”
“We’re already here. Lemme finish my drink so we can go somewhere else,” Natsukage shakes his head.
“If you say so,” Nanase still looks concerned. “Your numbers are way off.”
That gets his attention. Natsukage narrows his eyes. “Hey.”
“I wasn’t going out of my way to read them, really!” Nanase hastily assures him. “It was just there. Wasn’t straining myself or anything.”
“Keep it that way.” Natsukage sighs before continuing to sip his tea. It would be real nice if Nanase actually listened and stopped being a busybody for a hot second. Hell, this is their first meeting in a while… in seven months, if he recalls correctly.
A predictable downside to his career as a professional athlete is that he’s often kept busy, which wouldn’t be too bad if not for the fact that Nanase’s job also has him by the neck too. It makes meetings—or dates, as Nanase had so cheekily insisted on calling them—all the more rare. It’s not entirely surprising that Nanase has decided to become a detective; Natsukage is briefly brought back to the past once more, now to the wild whodunits Nanase dragged him into during a good chunk of his freshman summer break.
Natsukage stops himself before he can get too sentimental under Nanase’s watch. Instead, he lets his gaze wander around the cafe veranda, at everywhere and everything but-
“So, where do you want to go next?” Nanase asks. “My treat, ‘cause it’s your day. I’m just along for the ride.”
Shit. Natsukage’s way too out of it. The question catches him unaware, but he manages to stumble upon an answer: “Wherever you want for now. If something comes to mind, I’ll say.”
“Boring.”
“Shaddup.”
“Oh, what if we go to Manta Swimming School? Imagine, an internationally famous star athlete returns to his roots-”
“Nope, no, hell no. I’m gonna get hounded the moment I set foot there. I’m not going back in my free time unless the place is empty, and I know how packed it is during the summer. I’d rather take the backstreet in Break Passage. Anywhere else.”
Across from him, Nanase’s brows wrinkle in thought. It’s cute, like a bunny. Oh, god. Natsukage takes a sharp sip of his tea, and thankfully, Nanase is too distracted to make a comment.
“Hm, what about Spica, especially since Sora’s been doing something cool with the planetarium recently? Maybe Fairytale Forest… no, too many people for both, drat,” Nanase whines. “Spica’s only a walk away too! Almost all the places I frequent get crowded easily…”
Natsukage only vaguely knows those places because of Nanase’s friends there. He definitely remembers Kamui, not the other guy, Heat, or something like that. He and the former got along fine when Nanase introduced them, which is to say they knew to mind their own damn business and did so respectfully and peacefully. But then Nanase kept poking fun at them for being birds of the same feather or some shit, and while Natsukage doesn’t begrudge Kamui, he’s not sure he can handle Nanase calling him and another guy sour patches. Either way, he’s grateful Nanase has slashed those two places off the list without Natsukage needing to say anything.
Then Nanase looks like he’s having a eureka moment, which is a sign to Natsukage to be wary. He’s right. Nanase grins, “What do you think about Childoll?”
What the fuck, Nanase actually likes that horror house disguised as a doll shop? Honestly, Natsukage can’t find it in himself to protest. He’s too tired for this shit. “Well, we’re probably not going to run into too many people there, I guess.”
“It’s settled!” Nanase smiles so brightly right then.
That hasn’t changed since they were teens. Nanase used to be far more adorable (could even slap a wig on and pass for a girl) in a way that made his younger self’s heart clench and stomach twist. Even at their first meeting, Natsukage was taken aback by the cutie—albeit a really weird cutie—suddenly talking to him. Long gone is the baby face, but Natsukage still reacts the same as when he was fifteen, still steals glances and stares for longer than he should when he thinks he’s in the clear.
It’s probably even worse now for Natsukage, because while Nanase’s no longer sweet-looking, he’s disarmingly pretty. Maturity has brought out his best features, letting him toe the line between delicate and enticing. Nanase has turned multiple heads on their walk to the cafe alone, and Natsukage has never been more grateful that admirers tend to leave as soon as they talk to him. He’s still concerned about the mounds of other friends Nanase somehow manages to keep in consistent contact with—and Natsukage knows for sure that among those almost fifty, Nanase’s got some stalker who worships him like a god, what the hell—and that one assistant who follows Nanase around, but. Well.
It’s fine if Natsukage allows himself to feel proud just this once, right? He’s with Nanase, and Nanase’s with him. Just the two of them. Alone.
What really catches Natsukage’s eye though, is that Nanase actually feels tangible. In arm’s reach. Less alien. Like some sort of higher entity, finally come down from his lofty position. He looks like he’s far closer to peace now, no longer jumping at shadows or giving fake, strained smiles.
Ugh. Natsukage isn’t sure if his mental cocktail mix of jet-lag, sleeplessness, butterflies, and sappy poetry is working for or against him. Ideally, his storm of thoughts should keep Nanase away, but worst-case scenario, he might as well be setting up goddamn homing beacons for his true feelings.
Like the brat he is, Nanase indicates which of the two is the case. He laughs, and it sounds like kagura bells. “I’m happy you think I’m pretty. But you should really try saying it out loud next time. I promise I won’t make fun of you. For the record, you’re looking nice yourself too!”
Natsukage blinks once. Twice. Then his brain finally comprehends it, and he feels as balmy as the weather. Bastard. Nanase doesn’t look remorseful in the slightest, ever the cat that got the canary. Natsukage goes on the offensive, like he always has when it comes to Nanase.
“I’m leaving if you read my mind again.” Natsukage declares, but it’s half-empty. False because Natsukage, for the most part, isn’t going to ditch Nanase no matter how annoying he gets, and true because he just finished his milk tea. Nanase is probably aware of it too. Tch. Then Natsukage thinks of a better threat to match his irritation and embarrassment. “Actually, let’s go to where you first suggested. Manta. Let’s see if you’ve gotten any better at running, you twig.”
Nanase, for all his creepy acuity, can be dumb. He falls for the bait, hook, line, and sinker.
“Wait, wait, wait—Natsukageee. I’m sorrrrry. Anything but sports, please, you know I’ll die,” Nanase pleads. “I’ll stop for today, I swear!”
“‘Today?’” Natsukage echoes, arching an eyebrow. “That’s it, I’m dragging you to 307 Tower, even if it’s by the neck.”
When Nanase doesn’t budge from his seat, instead trying to make puppy eyes that almost manage to strangle his heartstrings, Natsukage grabs his arm and tugs. Not hard to the point of bruising, or hell, even hurting, but firm enough so that Nanase can only fumble and follow.
“Okay, what about Ashitobi Lab?! Bitwave, Rat Ear? Or what if we don’t go to Blue Sun Street at all! Sunset Hill and Sweet Beach are so nice during this time of year-”
Natsukage ignores Nanase’s blabbering and some of the looks directed their way. He doesn’t ignore the placement of his hand though on Nanase’s wrist, only a few centimeters away from the other’s palm.
It’s close enough. It’s good for now. It’s a beautiful day, and Natsukage is going to make the most of it with Nanase.