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Draken was the first to notice.
He always was.
"Let me see."
Toman had just finished their recent encounter with some older gang in Harajuku.
While it ended up with Toman winning, the fight was pretty serious. Many were almost finished off, including Mitsuya who had managed to get kicked in the stomach and received a full-blown on the back of his head. He could feel the injured area throbbing.
"That looks bad."
Draken was the first to notice.
Of course, he was.
He took down almost half of the gang by himself and would be more if they didn't play dirty. Using weapons was their last resort. At least, he appeared quite fine (in second, since Mikey didn't even get a scratch).
Almost quite fine.
He got a long scar on his cheek, pretty visible, which he was unbothered about.
Yet, he seemed more concerned about Mitsuya.
"I'm fine," Mitsuya convinced no one.
Draken grabbed him by his neck softly, examining his face with such care.
"You've got a pretty nasty wound," Draken concluded in a flat tone, catching Mitsuya's bullshit about being fine in less than one minute.
"Speak for yourself," Mitsuya touched the unharmed side of Draken's face. "I appreciate your concern about me, but you have to look after yourself too."
Draken covered his hand with his. "A band-aid will do. Yours on the other hand..."
Mitsuya rolled his eyes, letting go of Draken's hand, and went to rummage through his pocket. He stared blankly at the dinosaur-patterned plaster, mumbling something regarding Mana being such an attentive sister.
An excited grin bloomed on Draken's lips. He was just about to comment when Mitsuya went to put the band-aid on Draken's wounded cheek and muttered.
"I love you, but why do you have to be so stubborn?"
Draken blinked.
It went unspoken that whatever feelings they mutually shared had no name.
They both knew what that was and how much it affected them, but they had never been going around and giving it a name.
Is it love? Or is it not? Nobody knows. And they both were too afraid to categorize.
What did you call a feeling you have when you feel the butterflies swarming inside your stomach whenever a certain person around you?
What did you call the comfort radiating from the mere interaction with the said certain person?
What did you call something that bloomed in your chest, pushing around all of your organs trying to make a mess inside your lungs when you had this certain person in your arms?
It took a bit longer for Mitsuya to realize what had just come out of his mouth. And when he did, he dropped his hand and staggered back.
"I—" Mitsuya started, but Draken grabbed him by his neck, shutting him up, before he could say anything or worse, denying what he had just said.
They never named it because naming it to make it real.
Well, too late now.
It was real.
They both know that even if Draken didn't say anything back, the kiss was pretty self-explanatory.
When they parted, Draken patted his own cheek.
"I want the truck next time."
Mitsuya scoffed, trying to come off as nonchalant and slightly mean, but it didn't work with pink blush all over the tip of his nose.
"Next time, you buy your own band-aid."
Draken grinned. "Then, next time, I'll go for doggie-themed ones."
And next time, maybe he would also say something else back.