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Of course it was Hikaru’s idea to go to the party together.
„Come on, it’s Akari’s eighteenth birthday. I have to go. And the invitation says ‘please bring your partner’. Aren’t you my partner?”
It’s moments like this that a hint of insecurity shows in Hikaru’s eyes and Akira sighs.
“I am.”
Hikaru beams and drags him off to find what he calls ‘the least embarrassing outfit in your wardrobe’.
When they arrive at the party, nobody comments on Akira’s outfit (a plain white shirt and probably the only pair of blue jeans he owns. Really, when did he even buy these?), but Akari says she likes Hikaru’s t-shirt. It’s a faded green one, with a discrete white 5 printed at the front. It was a present from Akira, who bought it in Hong Kong when he was visiting his father at a tournament last year.
The apartment is loud and full of people that Hikaru pretends to remember from Junior High plus some familiar faces of lower Dan players and Insei. Akari obviously made friends with Nase Asumi and then the whole pack at some point (she tells him the story, but Akira can’t really follow because Hikaru is bragging about his latest title match in the background, and he has it all wrong, obviously.)
Waya doesn’t even start with polite small talk, instead the first thing he does when he sees Akira is push a bottle of beer in his hand, grinning madly. He seems excited about the fact that he’s actually allowed to make Touya Akira drunk. Or maybe he emptied a few of those bottles himself already. Probably both.
After the first beer the music still feels a bit too loud for Akira’s liking. After the second he doesn’t care, since he’s chatting with one of Akari’s friends eagerly (but can’t get himself to remember what the conversation was about on the next morning).
His eyes flicker over to Hikaru laughing in another corner of the room. There is a sudden urge to hold his hand that’s almost painful in his chest.
So he does the thing that feels most natural in this situation, walks over to Hikaru and says, “Dance with me.”
There are already a few people dancing near the door to the kitchen, so it’s not completely embarrassing. Still, Hikaru later never grew tired of reminding him that it was Akira who made him dance, which in itself seems a thought too ridiculous for Hikaru’s brain to handle.
There is a weird feeling in the air, a mix of heat and easiness and comfort, like not having to think about the next move at last. The two of them might look stupid, but who wouldn’t, dancing drunkenly while holding hands, awkwardly bumping into each other and laughing about it.
Hikaru radiates and spins and gets the lyrics wrong and Akira can’t get enough of watching him.
As they leave, Akari hugs him instead of the formal bow she gave him when they arrived.
“I’m glad you came,” she smiles.
“Thank you for the invitation,” he says politely. Then he smiles back and adds, “I had a lot of fun.”
When they are waiting together in the cold of the station for the train, it’s Hikaru’s turn to take Akira’s hands.
“I still can’t believe you asked me for a dance. You!”
“Shut up,” Akira replies, but his face is soft.
If his head is spinning a little, it’s probably not only because of the alcohol.