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Somewhere far away, the door to the bathroom squeals open.
Shit.
Tadashi sniffles again–too late to hide it now–as the door swings shut with a whine and a gentle thump. Footsteps behind him head straight to the urinal, apparently unbothered by the sight of the freckle-faced college kid sobbing over the sinks.
Why would he care? Tadashi flips on the faucet, starts splashing cold water on his face. Not like you’re special. Another loser who got too drunk.
Time’s passing all funny. Water splashing against the yellowing porcelain basin of the sink, a steady stream of piss into the urinals. His head feels too heavy. Like, he needed space but then it turned out that shitty karaoke was the only thing keeping him together and now it’s way too fucking quiet and everything sounds blurry.
When he looks up again, the other guy’s standing right next to him, washing his hands.
Their eyes meet in the mirror, and damn, the dude’s got an intense gaze.
Foreign exchange student? Tadashi blinks slowly. Ben?
He’s big, and good-looking, too. Tall and broad shouldered, sharp features, flawless skin even under the shitty fluorescent lighting.
Instinctively, Tadashi bristles. It’s a familiar feeling: fear that his loyalty is being tested. Fear that he’s being delusional, misinterpreting things yet again.
“Hey.”
“H-hey,” Tadashi stutters.
The faucet’s still running. Should turn it off.
Ben– Ken? –dries off his hands, reaches over to shut the tap on Tadashi’s sink for him. He purses his lips, eyes slowly running down Tadashi’s narrow frame, then back up again to his face.
Maybe I wasn't misreading things after all. I’m talented. And cute. I’m stronger than I look. I was a volleyball captain in high school. I have famous friends. I’m kind of a big deal, actually.
Yes. Look at me.
Tadashi wraps his arms around himself.
“Rough night?” the guy asks, not unsympathetically.
“I, uh, don’t do this often.”
“Yeah,” he agrees a little too quickly. “You’ll get used to it.”
Tadashi forces a laugh and leans against the countertop. “I’m not so sure about that. But thanks.”
“Uh huh." He nods like he’s already moved on from that conversation. “So. Listen. That friend you showed up with. Is he, you know…”
Tadashi blinks.
“Tall,” the guy attempts helpfully. “Blond.”
Oh.
He tries again.
"Um. Glasses? Cute."
Tadashi’s fingers clench against the tiled countertop, knuckles flushing white.
“We’re together, actually.”
“Damn.” He doesn’t sound particularly bothered. “My bad. Didn't seem like it.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Tadashi closes his eyes. Feels the earth sway beneath his feet, thinks about how it would feel to return to Tsukki as a lover and not a liar.
By the time the churning in his stomach’s eased, he’s alone again. The lightbulb over the sink is buzzing faintly and there are specks of mildew running along the frame of the mirror.
When Tadashi slips back into their group’s karaoke room, bathroom guy’s taken the stage to belt out some corny pop song about heartbreak.
Kei’s eyes raise to meet him as he slowly lowers himself onto the pleather seat.
“Hey.”
“Tsukki."
More like a sigh than a greeting.
They listen to the rest of the song like that, quiet, even though Tadashi can’t help but wish that Kei would make some biting remark.
Lame. Tone deaf. Shit taste.
But then, he doesn't have any reason to dislike the guy, does he? Maybe he's been watching too. Maybe this latest lie was the kind that counts.
Bathroom guy does a little flourish of the hand and bows when he’s finished, and Tadashi cheers and claps with the rest of the group. Kei does too. Like he’s on his best behavior.
They stay like that for a while, one song after the next. It’s hard to keep track. The other guys are all leaning into each other, laughing, telling jokes. Kei doesn’t, so neither does Tadashi. The gap on the sofa to either side of them keeps getting wider. Like the whole world is just orbiting around them.
Kei leans close like he’s about to whisper, but maybe he’s drunk too, or more likely just doesn’t care, because when he announces that “this shit sucks,” it’s at full volume.
“Ready to head home?”
His voice is so shaky with relief that he’s a little worried Kei won’t hear it over the speakers, but then, he’s always been soft-spoken, and somehow it’s never been a problem.
Tsukki nods without words, and without words, Tadashi follows.