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"I one hundred percent don't recommend falling in love with me," and as the words left Takahiro's mouth, Issei realized he was screwed.
They were sharing jiaozhi after the last day of school in a hole in the wall restaurant Takahiro had picked out. They'd ordered pork and chicken and shrimp, but Issei was doing a careful job of separating the shrimp ones from the others because he knew his best friend didn't like them.
The boy in front of him still wore his uniform, his shirt extremely wrinkled and his tie loosened up, the top two buttons undone and letting his collarbones peek out, giving Issei the hard job of not intensely staring at the little freckles on them. Issei had changed into a black shirt but had kept his pants, always a little bit insecure about how his shoulders looked in button ups, even if he'd never admit it and always blamed it on them being uncomfortable.
"Every single guy I date ends up heartbroken and I swear I never mean to do it, it just happens," his bangs were getting too long for his personal liking, but Issei liked the look on him, "I think I'm done with dating, at least until I get my shit together.”
Issei hummed and nodded, his eyes focused on the way his pink hair moved with the slight breeze of the air conditioner that hit them almost directly. He shoved a shrimp jiaozhi into his mouth and listened as Takahiro kept ranting.
"And the worst part is it's always the same type of guy," he spoke with his mouth full but Issei could understand him anyways, "the ones who listen to Arctic Monkeys and smoke and dress in all black and think they're the main characters in a stupid indie coming of age film and I'm their fucking manic pixie dream girl, or something— I think it might be the pink hair. Should I go back to brown?"
Issei shook his head from side to side, and Takahiro sighed in frustration, his eyebrows turning downwards and creating a tiny crease that Issei really wanted to kiss. No, needed to kiss. Right then and there. He was a bit of an impulsive person, so he did. He then pulled back and in order to avoid Takahiro noticing the red tint on his cheeks, he quickly moved the conversation.
"You do realize you're describing me, right?" He looked down towards his shirt and showed him his chipped black nails, then pointed to the earbud inside his left ear. "I'm listening to Teddy Picker right now."
Takahiro scoffed, "You're pathetic."
"I'm your ideal man, you can't deny it."
"I was literally just complaining about guys like you. I repeat, you're pathetic."
"You love it, baby."
Takahiro didn't dignify him with a response, instead he looked at him with that classic unimpressed look in his eyes and kept chewing on his pork jiaozhi, and Issei knew he was so incredibly screwed. It wasn't even funny.
He had been in love with Takahiro for three years now. His warning would've come in handy the first day they locked eyes and Issei had immediately been sure that he wanted nothing more than to drown in their greenish hazel, to be consumed by the apathy that his half closed lids expressed, to have them close completely so he could kiss them-
Okay, so maybe he was pathetic. Fuck that, scrap the maybe, he was a total utter foolish idiot moron. In love with his best friend, fuck, maybe he was the protagonist of a stupid indie coming of age film after all.
“Now that I think about it, you kinda are exactly the type of guy I’d date,” Issei choked when Takahiro broke the silence, “everything would be so much easier if I just dated you.”
Issei drank some water before he spoke, trying not to show how flustered he’d gotten. “That’s a bit gay, man. Dating your homie? Pfft-”
“No— shut up— think about it!” Takahiro slapped him on the arm repeatedly, “you’re a fucking loser, but that’s exactly what I like in a man! How is it possible that I’m not in love with you?”
“Ouch, you aren’t? I fell in love with you the moment we locked eyes, man.” He was a bad liar. Good thing the truth was ridiculous enough to make it look like a joke.
“You’re so fucking stupid. Why do I even hang out with you?”
“Because you can’t stand Oikawa and Iwaizumi is unable to have a conversation without mentioning him every five minutes.”
“Fuck, you’re right. I should hang out with Watari, that guy’s the only sane person I know.”
“He’s absolutely not sane, he hangs out with Yahaba and Kyoutani willingly. No sane person would do that, they’re ten times worse than Iwaizumi and Oikawa.”
“Sigh,” he said flatly, causing Issei to chuckle, “guess I’m stuck with you.”
“I’m glad you are.”
“Yeah, me too,” he smiled sweetly and let his head rest on his fist, “we’d make a cute couple.” The neon pink nails on his other hand hit the table in quick succession, and his eyes suddenly widened.
"Issei, date me."
"You're insane."
"Not in a serious way, but you know how friends date sometimes?"
"No, I don't, because that doesn't happen."
"Come on, loser," he punched his shoulder and stood up, dramatically opening his arms, "why not try?"
“It’s a stupid idea.” Takahiro still stood, his brows furrowed and his lips in a pout as if he was challenging Matsukawa to disagree. “What if we hate each other after?”
“Pfft, come on, it’s not like we’d be in anything serious. No feelings hurt if there are no feelings in the first place, right?”
Wrong. But he didn’t need to know that. “So it’s like, we date but it’s exactly the same as it is right now.”
“Yeah,” Takahiro sat again, a pleased smile on his face. Issei would always eventually agree to anything he said, and as much as he hated it, Takahiro knew this and used it to his advantage. The small smile turned into an evil wide smirk as he broke his pause, “maybe with the added bonus of a few blowjobs here and there. Who knows.”
“You would never blow me.”
“Yeah, but you’d blow me.”
Issei looked down at the table and slowly nodded. “Touché.”
“See, what’s not to love? I get someone to blow me and you get to date me.”
He wanted to ask, what do I get from dating you? He wanted to say, I’ll want more. He wanted to warn him, I don’t know if I’ll be able to pretend I’m not in love with you.
“Okay. Sure.”
…
"So… you're dating."
"Yeah."
"And he asked you."
"Yup."
"But he doesn't like you."
"Yes."
"But you're in love with him."
"You got that right."
Yahaba sighed and ran a hand through his face, pulling his eye down slightly. "Why would you do that? Are you a fucking masochist?"
"Maybe. I wouldn't know. I'm a virgin."
The younger one punched his arm, and Issei's mind immediately went to Hiro. His now boyfriend. He wanted to puke.
"You're a fucking idiot."
"I know, I know, I'm aware. People keep telling me."
"Hm, I wonder why," Kyotani spoke flatly, his resting bitch face slightly corrupted by the upwards tilt of his disbelieving eyebrows.
"Look, it's fine. Everything is fine. Yeah, we're dating, but it's not like things are different than before. It's like… a little prank. Yeah."
"And who are you pranking? Yourself?" Yahaba had this certain aura that made Issei feel like he was being scolded and at the same time pitied. He kinda reminded him of his mom. "You're only hurting yourself."
Kyotani nodded along, and Matsukawa knew that they were right. Of course they were, he already knew everything Yahaba said before they'd even had this conversation. He was trying to ignore it, so bumping into the couple the day after his arrangement with Takahiro and proceeding to tell them everything before they even asked why his eyebags looked even worse than usual had ruined his chances of acting like he was innocent and gullible and didn't know any better.
“Fuck, I just-” he ran a hand through his hair, and kept it and the back of his head, pressing his thumb onto his neck as he spoke, “if I said no, he would’ve known.”
“And what would be so bad about him knowing?” Kyotani looked him straight in the eye, a sort of challenging look. Of course he’d turn it into a fight. Matsukawa was proud of him for trying, though. He was getting better at conversation.
“You don’t wanna hear it. I have a list.” The couple looked at him expectantly, Yahaba motioning with his hand for him to go on. “Well for starters he’d freak out and never talk to me again.”
Yahaba scoffed. “Impossible, but continue.”
“Uh- yeah that’s pretty much it. I know it sounds stupid but I know Hiro, he’s my best friend. I know how he is. He hates dating friends, so me having a crush on him is probably the worst thing that could ever happen.”
“If he hates dating his friends, then why the fuck did he ask to date you? It makes no fucking sense, Mattsun!”
“Because it’s not real, my dear Shigeru. It’s a little funny thing he wants to do, and he’ll stop it in like a week and everything will be okay.”
…
Okay, maybe it wasn’t okay.
For starters, the pet names. To be fair, it had been Issei’s idea. He jokingly called Takahiro ‘babe’ in a text and Takahiro threatened to block him, which obviously prompted a huge smile from him and another ‘babe’. Takahiro replied with a ‘buttercup’ and Issei’s smile was gone and replaced by a burning face and a fast-beating heart.
Secondly, the excessive physicality. They’d always been pretty close to each other, Takahiro resting his head on any part of Issei that was available at any point in time, but now it was more. It came in the form of Takahiro placing Issei’s hands on his waist, thighs, and neck. It came in him holding his hand, caressing his hair, and worst of all, kissing his cheek and leaving it sticky with his strawberry chapstick. Issei loved it.
And probably worst of all, how fucking real it felt. How natural, normal, perfect it felt. How it felt like maybe, just maybe, Takahiro loved him back. It was addicting.
So of course it wasn't okay.
"Happy one week anniversary, hotcock." Matsukawa was snapped out of his thoughts as Takahiro sat down in front of him, at the same table in the same restaurant where they had made their so-called arrangement. "Can't believe our relationship has lasted so long."
"Hello, my dear angel. Why the fuck am I hotcock?"
"I'm trying to use more creative pet names. Look," he pulled out his phone and showed Issei his notes app, "my personal favorite is mopsy . It originally meant fool, as in you're a fool in love , but now it's used as an insult in England and it means you're stinky. It's perfect for you."
Aw man, that first part was really accurate.
“I like that you dressed up. It really shows you’re committed to this relationship.” Takahiro held the side of his head in his hand, his cheek squished by the pressure as he looked at him. His eyes were framed perfectly with messy black pencil eyeliner, and even if he looked the same as he always did, and Issei had worn his best clothes, he still felt underdressed. His pink hair bounced lightly as he nodded in approval. “Your jeans aren’t ripped for once.”
“Unlike yours.” His jeans were skin tight, making the parts of his skin that showed from the holes in his jeans stick out of them. His thighs looked soft, millions of light brown reddish freckles decorating them. The contrast of his pale skin with the jet black denim was stark, and his neon pink mesh shirt thrown over the black binder made it stand out even more. Issei felt the need to bite at the skin, to leave his very own marks.
“See, the thing is I don’t really need to dress to impress. I’m enough on my own.”
Issei gasped in mock-offense. “Are you implying that I’m not?”
Hiro gave him a once over and tilted his head to the side, freeing it from his palm. “You need a little work but you’re okay, I guess,” he paused and then smirked as he made eye contact, “I wouldn’t be dating you if you weren’t.”
That was it. That was the stupid fucking thing Hanamaki Takahiro did to Matsukawa Issei.
Make him believe he actually had a chance.
“Yeah, yeah, complimenting me won’t get you anywhere. I’m not paying for your food.”
They ate and Issei paid for everything. Hiro teased him as he pulled out his sparkly Doraemon wallet (a gift from Hiro way back when they were twelve) and teased him once again as he accidentally paid less than he was supposed to, and the lady serving them kept staring at him expectantly.
“I’d say this was a pretty successful second date,” the air was chilly and Issei adjusted his heavy knit scarf while Hiro, his boyfriend, spoke. “It was really nice, actually. I liked it a lot. You’re nice to date, Issei, truly a great boyfriend.”
Boyfriend. He felt like the word haunted him. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Maybe if he repeated it enough inside his head it’d stop sounding so fucking mean. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfrie-
“Hello, Earth to Issei.” Takahiro waved a hand in front of his eyes, and spoke in the annoyingly cute voice he used whenever he wanted to get his attention. “Man, you’re absolutely lost today. Too much on your mind? Cute boyfriend distracting you?”
Boyfriend. The term kept sounding just as mean.
It was so mean that Issei didn’t want it to leave Takahiro’s mouth ever again, unless he actually meant it. He wanted him to shut up and stop because, fuck, as pathetic as it was, he was pretty sure he’d break down crying if he heard it even one more time.
“Hiro,” he took a deep breath and stared at the ground, unable to look back at the greenish hazel eyes that were glued on him, “I just can’t understand this whole dating thing. It’s messing with my head.” He forced himself to look at Takahiro and immediately regretted it. How could he deny how good it felt, how could he refuse to hold his hand and call him his when he was right there, when calling him his was a possibility now? Even if fake, even if stupid, even if hopeless, he was there and he was his and isn’t that all he’s ever wished for? “It's stupid. Why do you want this?”
Takahiro smiled, and Issei wanted to punch himself. Fucking idiot.
“Can’t we experiment a bit? Y’know, live life to the fullest. How will I die without knowing what dating Matsukawa Issei feels like, right? You never know until you try.” With that, Takahiro leaned up and kissed the round of his cheek, right next to the corner of his lips. “Also flirting with you is fun.”
Issei scoffed, but couldn’t keep from smiling. “You’re a tease.”
“Proudly.”
…
“Issei.”
The second he heard that single word, in that tone, he froze. He then straightened his back, sitting upright on Hiro’s bed where he sat in front of him.
Takahiro’s voice sent chills down his spine. His stare was piercing, it held him in place even as his breath hitched and he felt the need to run.
“Why won’t you kiss me?”
“What?”
“We’ve been dating for a month,” his voice was a fake calm, a tone he knew all-too-well signified a storm was on its way, “and we haven’t kissed. Not even once. ”
Issei cursed his stupidly big Adam’s apple as it visibly bobbed when he swallowed. “And?”
“What do you mean, and? This isn’t normal, weirdo! Why haven’t you kissed me!”
“We’re not actually dating, it’d be weird.”
“No it wouldn’t! I kiss my friends all the time!”
“Have you ever kissed Tooru?”
“Fuck no!”
“Hajime?”
“Ew, gross, no.”
“You don’t have any other friends.”
“I have millions of friends. Just yesterday I hung out with this super hot friend of mine and the only reason we didn’t eat each other's faces was because I am a taken man in a committed relationship and my boyfriend doesn’t want me kissing around.”
“You were at my house yesterday.”
“That’s the joke, dude. You’re the friend. And the boyfriend.”
Issei tapped his fingers against his thigh. He could tell Takahiro was watching him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye. If he did, he’d kiss him. He’d kiss him, and they’d kiss, and he wouldn’t be able to stop. It was fucking terrifying.
“Issei,” Takahiro whispered, and his voice was so sweet, and so cold, and Issei felt like he was dying. He was dying at the hands of the love of his life, and he accepted it, basked in it.
“Takahiro.” Their eyes met.
“Issei, kiss me.”
Death was sweet. Death was cold. Issei accepted it. Issei basked in it.
Issei kissed him.
He swore kissing him was stronger than death.
Death is inevitable, everyone knows it’s coming; it’s terrifying, and doesn’t make sense at all, but it’s there for sure. And it comes for everyone.
Kissing Hanamaki Takahiro was an oddity he’d never seen coming. He’d dreamt about it. He’d thought about it ever since he saw his rosy lips. He’d never considered himself lucky enough to get it, a kiss from Takahiro, the love of his life.
The reality was a lot different from the fantasy. He’d never taken into account the way his hands would shake awkwardly at his sides, Takahiro’s cold fingertips holding his jaw in place, the taste of his strawberry chapstick making its way into Issei’s mouth. Takahiro’s tongue brushing against his lips, Issei’s gasp, Takahiro’s tongue touching his own, Issei’s hands settling down over Takahiro’s thighs. Squeezing his thighs, he had imagined that, but sticking his fingers underneath the small rips on his jeans had flown over his head. His warm hands heating up Takahiro’s skin, Takahiro’s fingers controlling his face, his hold on his jaw unrelenting, never letting go, even as Issei could tell they were both losing their breath.
Issei could feel him smile against his lips, and when he slightly opened his eyes, he could see Hiro’s eyelashes fluttering. The sight made him break away. It was too much. His heartbeat stuttered wildly, banging uncontrollably against his chest, making his breath come out in inconsistent huffs through his mouth. He took his hands away from Takahiro’s thighs, the shaking and the burning feeling like too much, too much for Issei to bare when he could still feel the warmth in his mouth and the taste of sweet and sticky chapstick that had been planted on his lips. His eyes burned, they felt too wet and somehow too dry and his vision blurred as he tried to stare at Takahiro, still sitting on the bed right in front of him.
The latter’s usually pale face was now rosy, his reddish freckles almost blending in with the blush sitting high on his round cheeks. His lips were parted and he had an expression that Issei wanted to believe was want, but he couldn’t overanalyze before it was contorted into a stupid grin. “I can tell you liked it.”
“Yeah.” His mind wasn’t working fast enough to come up with one of his usual retorts.
“Wanna go again?”
Things were already going to shit. Might as well indulge.
Issei nodded and kissed him again.
…
“Ugh, finally!”
That was most people’s reaction to the relationship announcement.
Tooru had pat Issei’s back and ruffled Hiro’s hair, which led to several playful punches and insults and a few real ones thrown in between. Hajime, who seemed to be the mature one, had tried to separate them, only to join them after two failed attempts. Issei had stood beside them, watching it all go down with a stupid grin and a few cheers of Go Hiro!
His mom and little brother had been ecstatic. They both loved Hiro, and who could blame them?
The first time he’d come over to their house, he had bashfully gifted his mom a box of fancy chocolate, saying he was grateful for her letting him stay over. She loved him immediately.
Issei remembered her telling him that's the kind of boy you should marry, and he had gone bright red as he yelled at Hiro to follow him to his room, turning away from his laughing mom.
His little brother started loving Hiro the day he made breakfast for everyone after a sleepover. They were simple pancakes, but for some reason, they were just too perfect and his brother had begged Takahiro to stay with them forever. Then he dyed his hair pink in second year, and that just took his love and admiration to another level.
So there Issei was, in between his mom and brother who were both on the verge of tears because Takahiro was finally joining their family. He wanted to butt in, it wasn't like they were getting married, but how would he explain that in reality they weren't even dating?
At training, Kindaichi congratulated them, and Kunimi joined him with a much less energetic cheer. "We all saw it coming anyways," he had said.
"Pfft, what do you mean by that?"
"The tension was insane. I'm glad you've sorted your shit out."
"Hey!" Kindaichi screamed at him, his voice wavering. "Don't curse at school."
"I'm just saying. The yearning wasn't subtle at all," he put on a devilish smile, "and since when do you care about cursing?"
"Well I- I mean- not in front of our upperclassmen!" His cheeks were incredibly red. It would be amusing if Issei were in any other situation. His embarrassment was a lifesaver, though, since the team moved on from teasing him and Hiro to teasing Kindaichi.
Takahiro stood next to him, his back straight and his arms crossed. His chin was tilted upward and he looked confident, sure, smug. He looked like everything Issei lacked.
He whispered. “Why don’t you tell them it’s fake?”
“It isn’t though.”
Issei sighed and grabbed his shoulders so that they were facing each other. Looking him in the eyes was always tough. “Takahiro, I’m being serious.”
“So am I, asshole.” Their faces were already too close, so Takahiro didn’t have to move much to kiss the tip of his nose and watch the skin rapidly turn red in real time. “We’re dating. Nothing fake about that to me.”
He couldn't take it.
“Hiro, fuck, can you stop that?” His voice cracked pathetically. There was nothing he could do about it, with the giant knot inside his throat. “It’s not real. Can you fucking stop acting like it is? It’s driving me insane.”
And with that, he walked out.
…
“Issei! Issei! Fuck, come on!” He could hear Hiro’s voice behind him, chasing after him like a fucking nightmare. Or maybe a dream. It was complicated to decide what his stance on Takahiro was, what with him being the love of his life and everything. “Issei, fucking stop!”
Issei couldn't stop, even if he wanted to. (He didn't.) His legs were already on autopilot, almost running, the movement easy and mechanical, out of his own control. His arms moved lifelessly beside him, his legs carrying him relentlessly even as the rest of his body was too tired to hold itself up. His hands were formed into fists, his fingers squeezing his thumb to calm himself down, scratching it, leaving the trace of his fingernails dented into them.
"Issei!" Takahiro screamed again. His voice was hoarse, Issei could tell. "Matsukawa!" The smoothness, the smugness, the calm nonchalance of Hanamaki Takahiro, gone. He was desperate. It was clear. "Matsukawa, hell, stop!"
His mouth was dry, his eyes drier. They stung as the cold afternoon air hit his face, and he wished he could just cry so they’d stop aching.
He felt a hand grip at his bicep, and he knew he had to stop. He couldn't run away forever.
"Issei."
He always liked how quickly Takahiro could get his words out. They were usually monotone, simple, straight to the point.
He loved how Takahiro would say his name in the complete opposite way. Whenever he'd call for anyone else, he'd spit it out, as if calling people by their names was merely a mechanic for them to listen; he was aloof to what a name could mean.
Issei's name in his voice wasn't ever monotone. It was drawled out, sweet, pleading.
It wasn’t any of those things now.
Takahiro’s grip on him loosened, his fingertips sliding on the muscles, soothing the goosebumps on his arm that had developed in the cold air. The tense feeling on his shoulders started going away as well, and more and more of his anger and pain left with Hiro’s touch. His other hand came up to touch the back of his neck, and Issei leaned back, resting the weight of his thoughts in his lovers’ hands.
“I’m in love with you.”
And just like that. It was out.
He let out a loud breath, followed by raspy laughter. He could feel Takahiro’s fingers digging into his neck.
“You are?”
“Yeah. Yeah I am.” He thanked whatever deity was out there for letting him have this conversation without looking into Takahiro’s eyes. “Have been for a while now.”
His fingers dug in harder. “Hm. That makes sense.”
He let his head fall forward as he laughed loudly. “Oh does it?”
“Yeah.” He pulled at his hair, yanking his head back again. “A lot of sense. I’m glad I wasn’t just crazy and delusional and imagining things. You really are obsessed with me.” He yanked at his hair lightly two times. “Turn around, Issei.”
Issei cursed whatever deity was out there.
Looking at Takahiro was almost like a hobby for him. A passion, per se. He could spend hours, maybe even days just staring at him.
And he was a terrible multitasker. Talking while doing so was hard. Even more so when he’s trying to confess his long-lasting love for his best friend.
He turned around, eyes closed.
Takahiro’s hands stayed on his body, touching him in a way that could only be described as tender. One grabbed his jawline, keeping his head in place; the other caressed his arm, up and down and back up.
“Issei, are you fucking stupid?”
Moment ruined. “What?”
“I said, are you fucking stupid?”
“I’m not fucking you, so no-”
“I’m in love with you too, idiot.”
Moment saved. “You what?”
He chuckled, his pink hair moving with the wind, his blushing ears almost blending in with it. His cheeks and nose were pink as well, either from the embarrassment or the cold.
"I'm in love with you. Been in love with you since, what, must be two years now?" He was smiling, as if this was funny. "Was waiting for you to confirm my suspicions that you were in love with me too so I didn't make a fool of myself."
Issei was speechless. He forced a few words out. "You- huh? What?"
Takahiro laughed again, and leaned forward, and kissed him. He held his jaw with one hand, and his arm with the other. His kiss was warmth in the middle of the cold air, an insistent push of his lips against Issei's.
As he pulled back, Issei was now smiling too. His eyes a little too wide, and his smile a bit too incredulous, and as Takahiro looked at him he fell a lot more in love.
"So, are we dating for real now?"
…
They were sharing jiaozhi the day before they started classes in a hole in the wall restaurant Takahiro had picked out. They'd ordered pork and chicken and shrimp, but Issei was doing a careful job of separating the shrimp ones from the others because he knew his boyfriend didn't like them.
"Happy three months, by the way," Takahiro said with a mouthful of pork.
Issei choked on his mango juice, coughing loudly. Hiro laughed as he patted Issei's back.
He breathed in and managed to stop. "Isn't it in like a week?"
"Yeah, it is. I'm fucking with you."
Issei groaned and Takahiro reached for his hand under the table. "Love you."
Issei squeezed his hand. "Love you too."