Work Text:
→ I need your help.
Sent 15:43
← pfft, when don’t you? 😏
Sent 15:43
← what do you need help with?
Sent 15:44
← seriously, what’s up?
Sent 15:52
← should i come over?
Sent 15:57
← kaoru, is everything okay?
Sent 16:04
Kojiro blinks down at his phone, tapping it intermittently with his thumb so the screen doesn’t darken from inactivity.
It’s not that Kaoru’s initial message has him worried, and it’s certainly not unusual for Kaoru to send a message and then not reply again for hours, but those two things together? Coupled with the fact that Kaoru would even deign to use the word ‘help’ to begin with… well, Kojiro is on edge, and he’s losing patience the longer he waits for the three dots to appear indicating that Kaoru is typing back.
The time in the top corner ticks over to 16:06, still no dots, and Kojiro wanes; he clicks into Kaoru’s contact and hits call.
It rings out and then finishes on Kaoru’s voicemail message.
“Really, pinky?” Kojiro mutters to himself, a grunt of frustration when he picks up his keys on the way out the door.
He takes another cursory glance at his phone once he’s settled on his bike. 16:09. Still nothing. He makes another call, cuts the phone off seconds into Kaoru’s voicemail, and kicks his bike into action; he’s glad for once that they’ve never lived more than thirty minutes from each other, Italy notwithstanding, and he knows he can make the journey in fifteen.
Kojiro forgoes the doorbell when he gets there, lets himself in with his spare key to the vibrating trill of Carla’s, “Welcome, Gorilla,” message that plays out over the house when he steps past the door.
“Yeah, yeah. Hi to you too, Carla,” Kojiro huffs, quickly toeing his shoes off. “Where’s Kaoru?”
“Master is in the living room.”
Kojiro heads straight there and, really, he should not be surprised to find that Kaoru is perfectly fine. If sitting at his chabudai with sheets of paper and notepads littered around him while he furiously scribbles notes can be considered ‘fine.’
So, not surprised. A little annoyed. Mostly relieved, not that Kojiro will admit it out loud.
Kaoru is so engrossed in his task at hand that he hasn’t even noticed Kojiro’s presence yet. He doesn’t even react when Kojiro clears his throat comically loud. It takes for Kojiro to call out, “Hey, asshole,” for Kaoru to startle and turn to Kojiro with an immediate frown etched onto his face.
“What are you doing here?” Kaoru asks, but his disdainful tone is woefully saturated by the way he has to push his falling glasses back up his nose and cutely tuck some loose strands of hair behind his ear.
Kojiro smiles and he doesn’t dare try to hide how fond it is. He crosses his arms and leans against the door frame. “You have some nerve, you know?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Texting me that you need help and then ignoring my messages and calls,” Kojiro explains, wandering into the room and plopping himself down next to Kaoru. Kaoru picks up his long forgotten phone from the table while Kojiro continues to chide him, “If I didn’t know you so well, I might’ve been worried.”
“Five texts, two missed calls, and you showed up within just over half an hour,” Kaoru relays while he scrolls through. He turns to Kojiro, smug. “You were saying something about not being worried?”
“Eh, I was just passing by,” Kojiro says nonchalantly, waving a dismissive hand in the air as though it’ll dissipate all accusation. It doesn’t. He changes the subject, focusing on all the papers strewn about in front of him. “So…what’s all this?”
“Notes,” Kaoru answers breezily, mimicking Kojiro’s passive attitude.
“I can see that.” Kojiro rolls his eyes. “Notes for what? What crazy thing are you cooking up now?”
“I’m making a dating app.”
“You’re…” Kojiro turns to Kaoru, incredulous. “...what?”
“Making a dating app,” Kaoru repeats, far too amused for Kojiro’s liking. Then he plays innocent when he asks, “Problem?”
“Huh…what, no! Just…” Kojiro fumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face as though it’ll provide some clarity. It doesn’t, so he asks, “Why?”
“Most of the ones on the market are bad,” Kaoru explains, shrugging. “I can make a better one.”
“How do you know they’re bad?” Kojiro asks, and he’s so thoroughly confused that he doesn’t even know why he asked it when he’s not sure he wants to know.
Kaoru, thankfully, decides not to answer. Instead he turns to Kojiro with a raised brow. It’s the kind of look Kojiro should be used to by now, with all their years between them, but it still makes him feel as though he’s being examined under a microscope.
“You don’t use them, do you?” Kojiro continues, not sure why his mouth is still moving on its own; sometimes Kaoru’s stony silences do that to him, usually he doesn’t mind it.
Now, though, he kinda really doesn’t want Kaoru to respond, not when 50% of the possible answers to the question would destroy him.
Fortunately, Kaoru—ever the contrarian—doesn’t pick one of the two obvious answers and instead, chuckles. “And here I thought you knew me so well.”
“Alright, fine,” Kojiro snorts a laugh, gently nudging his shoulder into Kaoru’s side, conceding. “Maybe you occasionally have the ability to surprise me.”
Kaoru hums in contentment, and Kojiro enjoys the way he unconsciously seems to lean into Kojiro’s shoulder when he doesn’t immediately pull away.
“So… a dating app, huh?”
“That’s kind of why I wanted your help,” Kaoru says.
“What could I possibly do to help?”
“I need some data to enter into the prototype and, well, who better to give me said data than a serial dater.”
“Oh, well in that case,” Kojiro says, pretending to get up. “We better go find you a serial dater, then.”
Kaoru grabs his arm and pulls him back down.
“Fine,” Kojiro relents. “What do you need me to do?”
Which…as it turns out, may be Kojiro’s famous last words, if the bone-chilling self-satisfied grin that spreads across Kaoru’s face is anything to go by.
*
“A survey?”
“Yes.”
“You just want me to do a survey?” Kojiro asks dumbfounded.
“Yes.” Kaoru stacks his papers of notes together into one neat pile and clips them into his clipboard.
“You’re not gonna connect me up to a mind-reading machine? Sit me behind a curtain and have me interview three potential blind dates? Arranged marriage? Sperm in a cup?”
“Kojiro, if you so much as think about ejaculating into any of my kitchenware, I can promise you that nobody will ever find your body.”
“You don’t even use the kitchenware, anyway,” Kojiro huffs.
Kaoru glares at Kojiro, making a point of keeping eye contact as he slides over Kojiro’s cup of tea that Kaoru had just made for him. The ceramic makes a heavy scraping noise across the dining table, which is where they’ve since moved to for the purpose of this task; Kojiro now suspects that Kaoru deliberately made them sit here just so he can stare daggers at Kojiro across from him the entire time.
And, well… the staring daggers, Kojiro is a seasoned pro at dealing with.
He and Kaoru having an active discussion on their love lives, however? Kojiro is an amateur at best, although he’s sure he can hold out longer than Kaoru can, given that Kaoru is usually the one being as evasive as possible.
It begs the question why Kaoru initiated this so calmly. But Kojiro certainly isn’t going to be the one to back down.
“Alright. Give it to me, pinky,” Kojiro says, settling himself comfortably in his chair. “Whatever questions you’ve got, throw them my way; I’m an open book.”
“Too open,” Kaoru grumbles under his breath.
Kojiro rolls his eyes and takes a sip of the still too-hot tea, waiting for Kaoru to make a start.
“Where is your favourite place to take a date?” Kaoru asks.
And they’re off to an easy start.
“Festivals,” Kojiro answers. “Parks, maybe a garden centre.”
“Anywhere to spend as little as possible, then,” Kaoru remarks, taking notes.
“Anywhere scenic, with nice walks, to get to know my date better,” Kojiro clarifies.
He notices that Kaoru doesn’t seem to write that bit down before moving on to the next question.
“What kind of gifts would you get for a date?”
“Anything homemade is good—”
“And cheap,” Kaoru comments, again while taking notes.
“—because they really show that you know your partner.”
Kaoru snorts at Kojiro’s response. Kojiro doesn’t even have it in him to be irritated when Kaoru’s inevitable eye roll that follows is both playful and gentle. It makes Kojiro’s heart beat a little faster in his chest.
“So,” Kaoru continues. “What would you say is your best quality?”
“You mean, apart from my incredibly hot bod, winning personality, and impeccable skills in the kitchen?” Kojiro asks, suggestively waggling his eyebrows.
He enjoys the way an involuntary smile creeps its way onto Kaoru’s face, and then Kaoru has to force himself to turn away slightly in pretend disgust, his cheeks colouring the tiniest amount.
Sometimes Kojiro says things like that just to see Kaoru’s reactions, knowing there’s usually a split second before Kaoru catches himself. Those brief instances feed into Kojiro’s delusions and maybe—just maybe—they’re not delusions at all.
“I like to think I’m easy-going,” Kojiro says, answering the question for real this time. “Caring—”
“Humble,” Kaoru interrupts, the word laced with heavy sarcasm.
“Yeah, humble, jot that one down too,” Kojiro says, tapping his finger on top of Kaoru’s clipboard. “And dependable; that’s a good one.”
Kaoru doesn’t have anything snarky to say to that last one, instead quietly making his notes.
It gives Kojiro ample time to watch him and, god, does he want to kiss the soft blush dusting Kaoru’s cheek bones.
“I could probably answer this next one for you,” Kaoru starts up again, back to his usual persnickety self. “But, for full clarity, you really should be the one to answer.” He stops briefly, taking a small sip of tea, and then asks, “Do you prefer casual dating or commitment?”
That’s the first interesting question Kaoru has asked so far.
Kojiro briefly considers answering this one dishonestly. They’ve not really touched on anything outside of their comfort zone yet, haven’t tread anywhere near the line of danger. Kojiro could keep it that way, retain their friendship, and know that they’ll be safe.
After all, on the face of it, Kojiro knows what everyone—Kaoru apparently included—thinks of him. But…
“Commitment,” Kojiro answers honestly, pulling a surprised expression from Kaoru. “With the right person.”
“What?” Kaoru asks, frowning cutely in confusion, his first real reaction since they started.
Kojiro just shrugs, his usual boyish grin tugging at his lips. “I’d prefer a committed relationship.”
“With the right person,” Kaoru repeats.
“Exactly.”
“Then… Do you ever see yourself getting married?” Kaoru asks, except this question he doesn’t read from his sheet.
Not that that necessarily means anything, when he wrote the questions, and probably has them memorised, and this one goes hand-in-hand with the previous answer.
“Yeah,” Kojiro says, smiling gently at the thought. “I think I’d make a great husband.”
Kojiro sees another small flicker of a smile on Kaoru’s lips, but again it’s gone within the blink of an eye; yet another hopeful trick of the light, nothing more.
“What about children?” Kaoru continues, still not reading from his sheet. He’s not making notes now, either.
It’s kinda funny that they’ve never spoken about this. That this topic has been so off limits for so long, and Kaoru has seemingly just woken up today and decided that now is the time they can talk about it.
Kojiro’s not complaining; it’s nice. Kaoru seems to have visibly softened from the conversation, too.
“I’d love kids,” Kojiro replies. “A whole bunch of ‘em.”
He chuckles gently to himself when he imagines it: multiple tiny humans running around this house, a mix of pink-haired ones and green-haired ones, genetically inclined to leave chaos in their wake. Yeah, not biologically possible, but a dream if there ever was one.
“You know you’d actually have to be responsible for them, right?” Kaoru asks haughtily.
“Responsible?!” A large boom of laughter peals from Kojiro when he repeats the word. “Look who’s talking!” He waves his hands in the air, exasperated, talking to absolutely no one when he rants, “‘Responsible,’ he says, even after that time he babysat the twins with me and I came back into the room to find him encouraging them—at their big old age of five—to draw on each other with permanent markers.”
“I did not do that,” Kaoru protests. “They took it upon themselves. Who was I to stop their fun?”
“Uhh, the only responsible adult in the room at the time, that’s who!” Kojiro chuckles at the memory. “My sister didn’t trust me to babysit them again for six months.”
“Well,” Kaoru huffs, folding his arms across his chest. “You should have known better than to leave me alone with them.”
“Oh, my god,” Kojiro groans. “This, again. Well, at least we know out of the two of us who’s not having kids then, huh?”
“I’d be a great parent,” Kaoru says petulantly, a small pout peaking out.
“Mm,” Kojiro hums. And, dumbly enough, he does actually agree—marker incident or not. “I know you would, pinky. It’d be different if it was your own.”
“Yeah,” Kaoru agrees quietly and Kojiro doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kaoru look this soft before. That is, right up until Kaoru repeats Kojiro’s earlier sentiment when he adds, “With the right person.”
Kojiro’s heart about falls out of his chest at the gentle admission, a small offering from Kaoru if he’s ever seen one. A rare moment of vulnerability, and Kojiro can cling to the knowledge that he’s likely the only person special enough to ever be privy to it when it happens.
The moment passes in a quiet beat, before Kaoru realises that he has been sidetracked, and he shuffles himself upright.
“This isn’t about me,” Kaoru says in a tone that sounds like a teacher telling off a student.
“Right,” Kojiro says, not sure why he’s agreeing, when he’s curious to know more about this side of Kaoru too.
But…of course.
They’re in the middle of a survey.
Kaoru takes another sip of tea—slower, more purposeful—while his eyes roam over his question sheet, searching for where he left off. His gaze is focused, razor sharp, but his finger is tapping on the side of his clipboard, and Kojiro gets the sense that Kaoru is contemplating something deeper.
Something that isn’t in his notes, maybe.
There’s a flicker of determination that crosses Kaoru’s eyes then. Kojiro recognises it immediately, it makes his stomach drop out every time.
Kaoru looks up at him, pinning him directly, when he asks—
“Have you ever been in love?”
It’s the easiest question Kojiro has been asked all day.
And, well, Kojiro has never been given a more opportune moment in his life; he knows Kaoru will not offer him this opportunity again.
“Yes.” Kojiro answers the question with ease. He doesn’t need to hesitate.
Kaoru’s razor sharp focus needles into Kojiro for a long beat, and Kojiro can almost see the many more questions Kaoru now has rattling around his mind.
The one he lands on is, “How long ago did it end?”
“Is this still for your survey?” Kojiro dares to ask.
“Yes,” Kaoru answers without hesitation, the same way Kojiro answered his question mere seconds ago.
Kojiro softly huffs a small chuckle. “It didn’t.”
“It didn’t…” Kaoru repeats, working it over in his head. “It didn’t end?”
“No.”
“...You’re still in love with this person,” Kaoru says slowly, upon realisation. It’s not a question.
“Yes.” It’s you, you beautiful idiot.
“Currently… right now… you—there’s someone you’re in love with?” Kaoru asks, looking down at the table in concentration, trying to piece together this information.
“Yes.” Look at me, you absolute dummy; it’s you. I’m in love with you.
“Kojiro…” Kaoru says—and, ah, there’s that cute frown again.
“Kaoru,” Kojiro says back—carefully, delicately—when it becomes clear that Kaoru isn’t going to say anything more.
Kojiro doesn’t know why now, of all times, Kaoru dared to ask that particular question. He doesn’t know why he answered it honestly. All he knows is… he shuffles further forward in his seat, needing to be closer to Kaoru, needing to reassure him.
Kaoru pulls away ever-so-slightly, clearing his throat, looking a little ruffled when he shakes himself free from whatever headspace he’s in—and then he focuses back on his clipboard full of notes.
He, inexplicably, continues with the survey—not looking back up at Kojiro when he asks the next question.
“What do you do to show your partner you care for them?”
The question is a deflection, Kojiro knows. It’s designed to be safe. Kaoru is backtracking; trying to run from the conversation.
Kojiro isn’t going to let him.
“I bring them food when they forget to eat,” Kojiro answers. “I go to medical appointments with them. I make sure they’re taking regular breaks away from all their different pieces of technology.”
Kaoru looks back at Kojiro on that one, carefully scouring Kojiro’s face for any hint of a lie.
“I pour them a glass of my best wine,” Kojiro continues. “Drink with them and listen to them complain about their shitty clients.”
With each statement, Kaoru’s cheeks turn a wonderfully blush pink colour that almost matches the shade of his hair. He’s so beautiful, Kojiro wants to crawl across the table right now. He settles for shifting closer in his seat, and continues.
“I stock their fridge up with pre-cooked meals so they can eat, even when I’m not here. I carry them to bed when they fall asleep in the middle of the night coding.”
Kaoru turns his head away at that last one, coughing into a balled fist, and then looking back to his notes.
“That’s enough,” he says. “I got the answer I needed.”
“You sure have,” Kojiro says blithely. A little more quietly, he dares Kaoru to “Do something about it.”
“Okay, next question,” Kaoru says, pretending he didn’t hear Kojiro’s dare, his eyes scanning his sheet.
Kojiro puffs out a slight breath of fond irritation; how much more direct does he need to be?
“What qualities do you look for in a partner?” Kaoru asks, continuing with this inane game.
“I like them pretty,” Kojiro says, dropping his voice an octave. “Long hair, sharp features.”
He leans in closer to Kaoru across the table.
“Even sharper tongue.”
Kojiro tilts his head to the side, a smirk toying with his lips.
“Enough to keep me challenged, on the edge of my seat,” Kojiro says, physically shuffling towards the edge of his seat.
The pink of Kaoru’s cheeks start to turn a deeper shade, all the way up to the tips of his ears. Kojiro can almost feel the heat of it with how close he is.
“It helps if I’ve known them a while, too,” Kojiro chuckles deeply. “Say, since, oh I don’t know…kindergarten, maybe?”
Kaoru stares intently into Kojiro’s eyes as he creeps closer; his breathing is quicker, and the heat from his body is practically radiating from him in waves, but he doesn’t make any moves to pull away from Kojiro this time.
“That childhood-to-adulthood bond is really something sacred, you know?” Kojiro says.
Their legs are pressed up against each other under the table, slotting perfectly together as though they belong, and Kojiro can feel the strength of Kaoru’s thighs when he tenses up.
Kojiro feels like a furnace, too. A little disbelieving that they somehow got here, and Kaoru is letting him toy with their invisible barrier so easily, and…
“Kojiro,” Kaoru says, his voice impressively level considering Kojiro can feel him trembling.
“Yes, Kaoru?” Kojiro asks, his voice somehow deeper, low and rumbling.
Their faces are so close, Kojiro can feel Kaoru’s breath on his cheek. It’s surprisingly measured, gentle puffs in an easy rhythm.
“What kind of dress sense do you go for in a partner?”
The question halts Kojiro in his path, momentarily confused, blinking a few times until the fog clears and he realises that Kaoru has asked another damn question from the survey.
As though they were still playing that game.
As though there was ever even a survey to begin with.
Kojiro can play for a little while longer though, if that’s what Kaoru wants.
He breezily slides into a seductive smirk, his eyelids heavy, daring to slip a warm hand onto Kaoru’s knee under the table.
“I like it when they wear comfortable clothes,” Kojiro answers.
Kojiro’s thumb finds the outer edge of the kimono fabric in Kaoru’s lap.
“So that I know they’re relaxed when they’re with me,” Kojiro continues.
He slides his hand under the fold of the kimono fabric so that his palm meets bare, warm, soft skin.
“Old clothes that used to belong to me, that are so big they practically swim in them,” Kojiro says, punctuating this point with a quick flit of his eyes over Kaoru’s shoulder.
There’s an old sweater hanging on the back of the door, one of Kojiro’s from when they were teenagers. One that mysteriously went missing when Kojiro was just about to leave for Italy, and somehow is now here in Kaoru’s home.
Kaoru doesn’t even follow Kojiro’s line of sight to know what he’s looking at, and he’s caught red-handed when he guiltily sucks on his lip where his old lip piercing used to be. Where there’s still a small indent from the needle that can only be seen from up this close.
“Kimono is good, too,” Kojiro says, bringing Kaoru’s attention back by unsubtly thumbing the fabric out of the way on Kaoru’s knee.
Kaoru’s kimono falls open slightly under the table when he unconsciously spreads his legs from the weight of Kojiro’s hand.
Kojiro is practically breathless when he adds, “For when we’re out together, in public. It’s casual. Nice.”
Kaoru hums noncommittally at Kojiro’s response. It’s not like he’s recording any of these answers, anyway, at least not physically. His eyes dare to drag themselves downward to look at Kojiro’s lips, which have been impossibly close for a little bit too long now.
“Kojiro,” Kaoru says again, stopping Kojiro before he actually leans in for the impending kiss.
Kojiro briefly closes his eyes. If he asks another question from this damn survey…
“Yes, Kaoru?” Kojiro asks, opening his eyes to Kaoru’s brilliantly golden ones staring right back at him, shining.
“Who are you in love with?”
Kojiro answers that one with a wild smile and finally—finally—closes the barely-there space between their lips.
*
→ I can’t make it tonight.
Sent 23:14
→ I’m at home but I’m finalising a big project.
Sent 23:14
Kojiro fishes his buzzing phone out from his pocket, barely having a chance for the disappointment to settle in that Kaoru won’t be coming into Sia tonight before another message pings through.
→ Bring wine when you come over.
Sent 23:15
← on it, your highness! 🫡
Sent 23:15
Kojiro starts clearing away the tables quicker than he was before, desperate to get out of here and spend the night listening to his wine-drunk boyfriend talking about things he doesn’t understand in the slightest.
While Kojiro is tidying away, a thought occurs to him.
He fumbles for his phone to shoot off another message.
← wait, what project?
Sent 23:21
← it’s not that dating app, right? you weren’t serious about that?
Sent 23:22
← did you make the app or not???
Sent 23:22
← kaoru????????
Sent 23:23
*