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Kaoru’s phone screen lights up, shattering the illusion of peace he had fabricated in his dimly-lit bedroom. He braces for the loud announcement of whatever or whoever has decided to rudely interrupt his alone time, but it never comes. He groans aloud.
He’s already been disturbed, the least CARLA can do is read him the notifications so he knows if it’s worth reaching over to his bedside table. Serves him right for beta testing his DIY AI assistant on himself.
“CARLA,” he grumbles, rolling over onto his right side, his futon creaking “read notifications.”
“Hello, Master,” she chirps back, as if she’s mocking him, blatantly disregarding his request. “What can I do for you?”
“Read notifications.”
“I’m sorry, I do not understand.”
Kaoru groans again, louder this time.
“I’m sorry Master, I didn’t quite get that.”
“I said, read notifi-” before he can finish the thought she blares back at him, making him jump.
“Instant message from Idiot Gigolo reads: ‘Rise and shine, Jerkface. I’m making handmade ravioli for dinner. If you want some, speak now.’ Did you want to reply?”
He curses under his breath as he swings both legs over the side of the futon, grabbing his phone and heading for the door, noting the beam of bright light pouring from under it and the familiar shuffling of pots and pans in the kitchen.
He flings the door open, flinching as the bright light and sound of his roommate’s booming laughter provide yet more shocks to his system.
The kitchenette that’s built into the opposite wall of the common space of the loft is in a familiar state of disarray, and his childhood-best-friend-turned-roommate is beaming at him from across the living room.
“Hey there, Sunshine!” Kojiro calls to him, somehow both sarcastically and full of genuine enthusiasm. “Did your robot girlfriend wake you up?”
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you she’s an AI assistant that I’m programming for my fourth year thesis project,” Kaoru mumbles, shuffling his slippered feet across the floor as he makes his way to the high-top table they’ve been using as a kitchen island. “And I wasn’t asleep. Like you care anyway.” He pulls out a mis-matched stool and promptly slumps down onto it.
He glances up through his grown-out bangs to see Kojiro still looking at him, his eyes soft but facial expression otherwise difficult to place. He’s stopped kneading the dough on the counter top for a moment.
“You haven’t been sleeping very well.” Kojiro remarks, his brows scrunching together slightly with concern.
Kaoru wants to protest, to push back like he always does. This time he’s too tired. He folds over entirely and rests his forehead against the table top. Of course Kojiro cares; he cares way too much about everyone all of the time. It’s the main reason why every person he comes across practically falls to their knees in front of him, men and women alike. It’s the main reason why Kaoru has been unavoidably, undeniably, and unbearably in love with him since they were six years old.
It was far easier to avoid when Kojiro was an entire ocean away. When Kojiro got his approval to graduate from high school early, and then his acceptance to culinary school in Rome, Kaoru had let out a sigh of relief. Freed from the overwhelming presence of this hurricane of a person, he was excited to bury his nose in his studies and drive the final nail into the coffin on his unrequited crush on his (tragically straight) best friend.
But then days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, and each time his phone screen lit up to show messy green hair and dimples the ache in his chest only grew. While he did perhaps think of his boyhood companion less, absence has a funny way of making the heart grow fonder.
Still, it was all entirely bearable until around four months ago, when Kojiro rang him up with some unexpected news.
…
“I’m graduating early!”
“...Again?”
“Gee, thanks, Pinky. Your enthusiasm is inspiring. At least my parents were proud.”
Despite his best efforts a lump began to form in Kaoru’s throat. Of course he was proud. If his friend was sitting in front of him he’d surely throw his arms around him in congratulations. If he were here, Kaoru wouldn’t be able to help himself. He could never know how proud he truly was.
“Oh, can it, you idiot. You’re moving back home, then?”
“See, that’s the interesting part. My folks decided they’re going to sell the house.”
“...Fascinating.”
“Makes sense, I guess. I’m the youngest by quite a bit so they wanted to downsize finally and I don’t blame them. So, uh, I was wondering. Didn’t you say your roommate was moving out at the end of the semester?”
Kaoru felt his stomach turn with unease.
“Yeah…why?”
“Wellll, for old time’s sake, what if I moved in ?”
The following pause was far longer than Kaoru intended.
“You don’t want to move back to Naha?”
“I mean I could, but I don’t have any plans yet. I’m young and dumb and I have nowhere to be, why not just kick it with my old pal? Big city, my own room and in-unit kitchen, doesn’t sound too shabby at all.”
Kaoru could practically hear him laying at the foot of his dorm bed, no doubt kicking his feet in the air absent-mindedly. He had no idea the weight of what he was asking Kaoru to do.
“I’d hardly call what we have in this space a kitchen. It’s certainly not up to snuff to what you’re used to working with. We barely have any counter space.”
“Eh, can always bring in a table. As long as there’s a working stove I’m there.”
Kaoru’s heart had begun to race in time with his thoughts. There had to be a better excuse.
“Do you really want to spend your post-graduate freedom stuck with a person from your hometown? From your school boy years, no less?”
“I mean, I’m stuck with you forever regardless. Might as well find a way to get cheaper rent out of it.”
Kaoru felt his heart flutter despite himself. With you, forever.
“I miss you, Ru. Just promise me you’ll consider it before you go looking for someone on craigslist. I’ll make you fresh pasta.”
Kaoru sighed.
“You’ll have to wear a shirt in the common spaces of the apartment.”
“So demanding.”
“Always.”
…
Despite the extensive list of reservations Kaoru had going into the arrangement, Kojiro is a pretty fantastic roommate. While he tends to make a mess of the kitchen, he always cleans up immediately afterwards, and he’s never loud or inconsiderate. All of Kaoru’s gripes come from the simple fact that he’s, well, Kojiro.
He showed up on Kaoru’s doorstep promptly the night before his lease was set to renew. He’s tall. Rather he’s been tall, taller than Kaoru since the second year of primary school. The difference now is he’s big , arms and shoulders rippling with muscle tone under a too-tight t-shirt that certainly wasn’t there when he left. Kaoru felt his heart near bursting when his now very built friend dropped his bags and swept him into a bruising hug. There was no way he was going to make it out alive.
These same thoughts plague him now as he rests his cheek on the cool wood tabletop, watching Kojiro kneed the pasta dough with utmost care. The tendons in his hands are pronounced as he pushes downwards with the heel of his hand, covered in a light dusting of flour.
It’s no wonder that when he made the choice a couple months back to make Tik Tok videos documenting his process of perfecting his recipes, he’d immediately gotten attention. If you asked Kaoru he would deny it, but he visits the profile daily, and not just because he happens to be featured in quite a few of the videos. The first time was accidental; Kojiro was going over the process of making a basic pasta alla vodka when Kaoru walked into the frame on his way to the fridge. As he usually was when it was just the two of them in the apartment, Kojiro was shirtless, much to Kaoru’s dismay, finding a way to make even sauce stirring obscene.
“Slut.” he remarked offhand, before glancing upwards and seeing Kojiro’s phone propped up on a stack of textbooks (which were Kaoru’s, naturally) recording the entire exchange.
When Kojiro finally finished howling with laughter, he promised a bright-red, humiliated Kaoru that he would edit that part out. Either he lied or plain forgot, as no less than twelve hours later all of their mutual friends were texting the both of them to congratulate them on going viral.
Soon enough, regular Tik Tok uploads turned into Twitch streams, and then full-length videos uploaded to YouTube. While there were always the typical thirst comments regarding Kojiro’s body, increasingly more viewers would request for Kaoru to appear in the videos. Despite his propensity for embarrassment, Kaoru would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention.
In Particular, he enjoyed Kojiro’s attention. When the cameras came on, it became easier to pretend like this was all just an act, like his teasing that sounded like flirting was something he put on just for show. They didn’t even use each other’s real names when the cameras were live. It started with Kojiro using his nickname that his cohort used back in Italy- Joe, and referring to Kaoru by an old nickname on stream the one time- Cherry. Joe and Cherry, dumb and dumber, another slap-stick duo for the general masses to enjoy as if they were fictional characters. It was truly all Kaoru could do to keep his heart protected.
“Did you see the text I sent you?” Kojiro asks, with his back turned now as he goes to place the covered pasta dough in the fridge.
“I’m sure you were able to hear it yourself with CARLA’s current volume.”
“No, not that one, douche,” He turns back, resting his elbows on the table and stooping down so that he’s closer to eye-level with Kaoru’s head still on the table. “The link I sent you like an hour ago.”
“No,” Kaoru sits back up, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “What was it?”
“Just open it, I think you’ll like it.”
His tone is difficult to discern, but Kaoru doesn't think much of it as he pulls up his texts and selects the link just above the previous text. It’s a YouTube video, notably one not from Kojiro’s channel, but rather a user with the screen name “PestoBlossom Enthusiast”. The title reads- “joe and cherry annoying each other for 5 minutes gay”.
Kaoru does the best he can to try and train his face, but in truth his heart skips. Whether from panic or something else entirely he isn’t quite sure.
“Kojiro, what the hell is this?!”
“Shhh, just watch it.” He moves around the table to stand over Kaoru’s shoulder, close enough that Kaoru can feel his body heat, which makes it notably more difficult to concentrate.
It’s a compilation-style video of various clips from Tik Toks, streams, and videos of the two of them, well, just being themselves. Occasionally the editing zooms-in on either of their faces when they have a moment of irritated silence. What’s striking to Kaoru is just how clear the fondness is in his eyes, even when he’s calling Kojiro names.
Is he really that obvious? Is everyone catching on to how begrudgingly smitten he is? What the hell is he supposed to do with this? All these thoughts and more crowd his head as the video comes to an end.
Kojiro was laughing along the whole time. Laughing, like it’s ridiculous that there would ever be anything between them. And he’s right, of course it’s ridiculous. It makes Kaoru laugh too out of sheer bitterness.
When the video ends he lowers his phone and turns to Kojiro, expecting him to take a step back, to return to making his filling for the ravioli. Instead, he’s looking right at Kaoru, still as close as he was before. Kaoru has to control his breathing to keep his eyes from welling with tears.
“Would you believe it? People like, ship us or whatever,” Kojiro says, his voice trailing off as he meets Kaoru’s tear-filled eyes. “...Kaoru?”
Kaoru is already jumping to his feet and pushing Kojiro out of the way, but Kojiro is able to grab a hold of his wrist when it makes contact with the center of his chest.
“Where are you going?”
“My room.” Kaoru chokes out, hot tears sliding down the side of his nose as he wriggles to break free from Kojiro’s clutches.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Let go of me.” He does. A fierce pang in Kaoru’s gut wishes he didn’t.
Kaoru makes it to his door, but turns at the last second, pushing his bangs out of his face.
“So me being gay is so funny to you, huh?” he spits, like venom. “Just the thought that my scrawny, nerdy ass could be attracted to you, it’s hilarious, isn’t it? The fact that strangers on the internet could pick up on the fact that I’ve been so in love with you that I die inside every time I look at you since I was thirteen? It’s funny as fuck. Peak comedy. God fucking hell..” He coughs, cutting off his own tirade as he struggles to draw in a breath.
He goes to turn again, to open his door and slam it behind him and never show his face in the common space of the apartment again, but before he can catch his breath again Kojiro is crossing the room towards him.
Kaoru flinches and braces for impact, not entirely sure of what he’s expecting, but suddenly Kojiro’s hands are around his waist, his nose buried in Kaoru’s hair.
“What-”
“You’re the dumbest smart person I know, you know that, right?”
Kaoru’s at a loss for words, settling to rest his forehead on Kojiro’s bare collarbone.They stay like this for a moment, warm and solid in each other’s arms as Kaoru’s breathing returns to normal. Eventually Kojiro’s grip loosens, and Kaoru takes a step back, glad to stay within the circle of Kojiro’s arms as their eyes meet again.
“What are you doing?”
“Can I kiss you?”
It was the last thing Kaoru expected him to say.
“I…haven’t brushed my teeth since yesterday.”
Kojiro laughs, content to pull Kaoru closer and cradle his face with one hand.
“Could I kiss you not on your mouth?”
Kaoru gasps, embarrassingly, his cheeks bright red again judging by the amused and terribly fond look on Kojiro’s face. Kaoru can’t believe how he could’ve been so stupid. He nods.
Kojiro presses his lips to Kaoru’s forehead, the tip of his nose, the tops of both cheekbones. He lingers for a moment on the spot just below Kaoru’s right ear, nuzzling into Kaoru’s hair again.
“We’re going to have to talk about this, aren’t we?” Kaoru grumbles, prompting another chuckle from his friend.
“At some point, I’m afraid. Let me make you some ravioli first.”