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It was a grey November.
Riou, surrounded by the idle conversations of the bar-goers around him, was eagerly awaiting for Samatoki’s arrival. Warm, soft lowlights in tinted bulbs illuminated the bronze colored walls— it was their usual place. Casual enough with an edge of nostalgia, from the days when the only name to their relationship was “friendship.”
There’s a twist in his stomach. It was something Samatoki helped him slowly get used to, but he nevertheless felt odd when faced with even the smallest crowds.
He felt splintered between two realities. The familiarity of isolation, the community of togetherness. A slow-going integration, but Samatoki was the land at sea keeping him afloat in all of this murkiness.
He takes a generous sip of his whiskey. It warmed him from the inside, the bite of winter still clinging to the edges of his fingertips— the bitterness helped dull his senses, something he was grateful for.
Suddenly there’s a hand at his shoulder. Riou clenches his jaw— unclenching, once he realized who the hand belonged to.
“Hey stranger.” Said a voice, a voice like winter rain; like the low coiling of cigarette smoke at a Yokohama metro.
Samatoki slid into the barstool adjacent to him, giving Riou a smirk after pecking his cheek. His cold lips left remnants of a pleasant, icy sting. “Miss me?”
Riou’s lips curled up, nodding. “I did.”
The truth was, he always missed him. They hadn’t been together for too long, but being apart from him was more difficult than he’d imagined. More difficult than anyone he’d ever been away from.
“Shoulda brought you flowers, then.” He laughs to himself, calling over the bartender. His highball comes out fast— Samatoki clinks his glass against Riou’s, taking a swig.
“So, give it to me. You feeling alright, being here right now?”
Riou looks down for a moment, aware of Samatoki’s hand settling at his thigh. A comforting gesture.
That’s another adjustment for him, too— vulnerability. It’s difficult for him to express how grateful he feels, but in that moment he is so grateful for Samatoki, for how effortlessly he seems to understand him, or at the very least attempts to try. Beneath his tough, cold-blooded-yakuza exterior is a warm friend, a lover, someone kind— someone there beside him.
“I feel…” He pauses, swallowing. Gathering his thoughts. “Well, better. Now that you’re here.”
Samatoki gave him a slow nod, giving his thigh a squeeze. “You’re real brave, Riou. A lot braver than I could ever be.”
He felt as though there were a thick, hot liquid stewing in his chest when he said that. Waves of feeling bubbled up from inside, and Riou met his gaze. His eyes were deep— they always seemed to become clearer in focus, whenever he met them. The kind of eyes that made you feel seen.
“…I could say the same about you. I think it’s the opposite, really. You’ve always been braver than me…even when we first met.”
He folds his hands under his chin, the memories of their first meeting suddenly taking over his train of thought. Samatoki was the first person to ever try to start a fight with him, and then fight alongside him in the same day. It was amusing, and began the start of his small, seemingly one-sided infatuation with him. Someone he fought alongside with, then admired from afar when the fight was over.
And of course, there were certainly times when their personalities clashed— Riou was more practical in nature and saw things in ways that contrasted to Samatoki’s point of view. But they always were able to find an agreement in the end, and that’s what made Riou so fond of him. Stubborn as he was, he always tried to understand where he was coming from. Someone kind.
Kind with beautiful, distracting eyes— he inhaled, suddenly jolted from his absent thoughts.
“Somethin’ on your mind?”
He’s flustered suddenly, as if he were caught doing something wrong. His mind is still hardwired to think that this is only a crush, something one-sided and unattainable. But that wasn’t the truth, something he was surprised to find out.
This bar held a lot of memories in that regard. Their first kiss, one of many, occurred after a drunken round of darts— Riou lost, and Samatoki’s prize was a single request from him. It wasn’t even in the range of possibilities, in Riou’s mind, that Samatoki would ask for a kiss.
And what a kiss it was. The taste of smoke and whiskey still felt fresh on his lips as he remembered it.
“Ah, I’m just…” He pauses for a moment, looking at him. Was he aware of how deep his feelings ran for him? The irony that he had him, that he really was his now, was not lost on him, but he was suddenly so afraid of losing this, of losing these small moments. His eyes settled on the ice slowly melting in his glass.
“I’m just glad I met you, Samatoki.”
There’s a ghost of a grin curling at Samatoki’s lips, but his gaze deepened once he read Riou’s expression.
“Y’know, that brooding, lost-in-thought expression really suits you. But if there’s somethin’ bothering you…there’s no use being alone in it, yeah?”
Riou offers a smile, taking a slow sip of his drink.
“Right.”
He was never good at things like this, expressing his feelings through words— he was more the silent type, the kind of man who was better at showing how he felt through action.
“It’s nothing. Just thinking about all the time we’ve spent here this year.”
Samatoki laughs again, a faint pink staining at his cheeks. “Mhm…y’mean all the times we made out in the bathroom?”
This time, Riou blushes hard, looking down. Samatoki’s laugh is clear and rough and bright. His bangs fell in front of his eyes as he covered his mouth, trying to suppress his snickering.
Riou felt his chest tighten, wanting to reach out and brush the hair from his forehead, to touch him, to protect that laughter— it was contagious, and Riou quickly found himself grinning.
———
It was only November, but snow was already beginning to fall.
It was around midnight, the time of night when they parted after Riou saw him off at the station. Lights from the local izakayas streamed out onto the pavement, snow blanketing around their shoulders.
Touching him, even in small doses— his fingers brushing against his hand as they walked, hands going to his waist when a car rushed by— seemed to become an anchor that kept him pressed to the shoreline.
There was something calm and quiet about tonight, like maybe they were the only two in the world.
“Well, here’s my stop…” Samatoki yawned, stretching his arms out before turning away.
“Good night, Riou.”
“Wait.”
It was a quick motion.
Riou pulled Samatoki against him. He held him tight. Breathing in his scent, nose against where his shoulder met his neck.
Snow fell gently, quietly around them, in striking contrast to the beating pulse Riou felt underneath Samatoki’s warm skin. When he finally loosened his grip, Samatoki began to say something, but Riou’s hands pressed against his cheeks just as quickly.
He leaned down, just close enough to feel the heat of his breath against his lips before kissing him. Deep and intense. He sensed Samatoki’s surprise— not unwanting.
His fingers curled up in his hair, the smell of winter and whiskey faintly in the air.
Riou desperately tried to memorize it all, the feeling of him, burning the sensation deep into his mind before letting go.
“Good night, Samatoki.”