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If anyone asked, Neito would say Hitoshi is his dearest friend. They’ve known each other for years, fought besides each other, eaten together, lived together.
He was Neito’s best friend. That’s why he knew Hitoshi’s biggest flaws.
His issues, his pessimistic nature, his most complicated thoughts he could read right off the tension in his shoulders beneath a thick blazer.
So he’s not surprised when his boyfriend of six months is left alone at a party they were all invited to. Holding Hitoshi’s glass that’s growing slippery with condensation.
Hitoshi’s not coming back for the glass. So he plucks it with ease from dripping, trembling fingers that are red from the biting chill of the iced liquor.
“You—“ He downs it with ease. Hitoshi acts tough, but he can’t stand the top shelf stuff. Aged and smooth but burning. Neito loves it. He finds it sweet.
There’s sweetness in every bitter thing, like that cold anger in his chest that weaves likes vines around his heart. The burn of alcohol melts it away and he smiled, placing the glass onto the platter of a passing waiter.
“He’s not coming back.” Neito doesn’t sugarcoat it. He was kind like that. More mature than his roommate who still runs away like a pup with his tail between his legs.
Golden eyes glare at him. He can’t help but smile wider.
“It’s only been…” He checked his watch with heat in his eyes but the flame of anger is extinguished within seconds. Instead he looks like a kitten caught in the rain, stroppy and sad.
“Thirty two minutes. You stood here for thirty two minutes waiting for him to return.” He clarified for him and it verges on cruel. Denki blinks, and his eyes grow glossy as he sighs silently.
“And what? You watched me make a fool of myself for thirty two minutes?” Denki grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as his lower lip wobbles. “You’re such an ass.”
“I watched you make a fool of yourself for six months.” Neito pulled out his handkerchief from his front pocket and offered it to the blond. Denki snatched it and covered his face with the fabric, hunkering in on himself. It’s the opposite of the stupid smile he always gives Hitoshi.
Neito hates that he only gets this part of him. Yet Hitoshi doesn’t get to see his part of Denki, and there’s a sick satisfaction in that knowledge.
“I just wanted him to stay. Every time — every time, he always leaves early, and this time he didn’t even…he didn’t even tell me before he left.” Denki’s voice grew thick, clogged with an unheard sob. “I just stood here like an idiot, waiting.”
Neito watched as the young hero shook before him, impassive blue-grey eyes focused on the dangling silver jewellery on his right ear. It catches the lights above them and Neito’s eyes reflect the glare.
He curled his finger around the thin chain, thumbing the delicate silver dagger. It’s blunt like an earring should be. He presses the tip against the pad of his thumb regardless, like he wants to bleed on Hitoshi’s meaningless anniversary gift.
“You deserve a gentleman tonight.” He snuck elegant fingers into golden locks, palming his slim neck.
“What are you…” Denki turned imploring red-rimmed eyes up to his, cheeks blotchy. Neito smiled.
“Dance with me.” He led him by the nape, walking backwards with poise towards the centre floor until he can hear the music clearly, feel the strings through his tendons and the bass through his veins.
Denki just watched him, lips parted and eyes wide, stumbling to keep to his guiding hand. He doesn’t seem to realise the company around them until Neito’s hand meets his waist, the hand on his neck slipping down his arm to move his hand onto his shoulder.
He ducked his head, hiding his face behind an overgrown fringe.
“I’ve been crying, I would go wash my fa—“ Neito tangled his fingers with Denki’s, tilting his head down to whisper in his ear.
“Stay here,” He tucked his head against his shoulder. “And no one will have to know you shed tears over him.”
“Monoma…”
“You want some advice, Chargebolt?” Denki was quiet before he slowly nodded, following the slow waltz Neito led with only slight clumsiness.
“If I were you…” He lowered his voice, lips against a decorated ear as the music drowned away. He was too focused on the shaky breathing of his dance partner. “I would leave with me tonight, instead of crying over a boyfriend who leaves you alone every time to be so easily seduced by other men.”
Silver hurts his teeth when he bites down, the urge to remove the claim and trash it making him tug. He wants to replace it with something better.
Denki gasped wetly against his shoulder, staggering in their waltz, but Neito’s firm arm keeps upright when his knees go weak. The metallic tang on his tongue is sweet when it’s attached to Denki’s peach skin, firm cartilage and soft lobes that give under his teeth.
“What do you say? Lets enjoy our evening. Then I’ll take you home.” His or Denki’s, whichever the hero chose by the end of the evening.
“I…” His voice trembles, raising his head slowly to face the copycat hero. Pink lips shake, cherry cheeks making golden eyes look neon. The wet shine makes Neito squeeze the other tight.
“Can we…go now?” He looked fearful almost, like he thinks the offer will be snatched from him.
Neito grinned. What better way to teach Hitoshi a lesson on cherishing than to show him the consequence of not doing so?
“Of course. But first…” Neito twirled his finger around the earring and loosened the back, slipping the jewellery free from his ear. It collapsed into his palm, which he showed off to Denki.
“What will you do with this?”
Denki eyes widened.
“I’m…not sure.”
“Think about it.” He dropped it into his palm, leading him away from the crowd by their joint hands.
Neito find his heart skipping a beat when they make their way out of the building and Denki stops him.
“Monoma…Do you like me?” His heart is thrumming in his chest, steady but fast and he smiled.
“You’re a smart guy. Guess.” He smiled cryptically and Denki’s expression remembered unreadable. He tossed the earring up and caught it a few times before he smiled.
“Be my boyfriend.”
“Demanding.” Neito tutted. “Don’t you already have one?” Denki flinched and frowned, looking down at the earring. The anniversary gift that Hitoshi had admitted to almost forgetting.
The sadness sparked into anger before his face lit up with a grin, eyes sparkling. He turned to the busy street and reeled his arm back, tossing the earring as far as he could. He didn’t even hear it touch the ground, turning to Neito.
“Not anymore.” He snatched Neito’s hand and dragged him towards the direction of his apartment. He peeked at him over his shoulder, laughing at his shocked eyes.
“You didn’t answer me, y’know. You gonna be my boyfriend?”
That stupid smile…
Neito’s lips parted in a laugh. Short and abrupt.
“I’ll be a better boyfriend than him.”
Another man’s negligence gave another man his treasure. How poetic.