Work Text:
You’re sitting crouched in the smoking area behind of your office building, unlit cigarette perched between your lips. You fiddle with your lighter, flipping it, running your fingers over the stupid picture of the ocean, spinning the wheel that would normally give you a healthy flame to light your dumb cigarette.
Sparks. Barely even that. It’s busted. Broken. And you definetly don’t have the time or energy to go and get a new one.
Maybe if I sit here long enough the nicotine will seep in through my lips.
A flicker pulls you from your thoughts and you instinctively take a drag.
Inhale, hold, exhale. It’s muscle memory by now, and you rest your jaw in your hand as you look up at your saviour.
Handsome. Dark hair, darker suit. Blue tie, bluer eyes. Maybe even gorgeous, but you don’t dare to go that far. Yet.”Thank you…” you trail off, and he looks at you. His gaze is bordering on looking through you, and a small shiver runs down your spine.
”Hayakawa,” he mumbles around his own cigarette, before lighting it.
”Y’must be a pretty shit airplane passenger Hayakawa.”
He raises his eyebrows and you smile.
”Save yourself before you save others, no?”
”I’d argue that im the perfect passenger then. Cigarettes aren’t exactly keeping you alive.”
”Ah, I suppose you’re right. I retract my former statement,” you say with a joking tone, raising your hands to admit defeat.
Hayakawa snorts, and your smile widens slightly.
”You new?”
He hums, questioning look on his face.
”Like, at the company. Haven’t seen you before, I think.”
”Ah. I just finished my introductory week. So yes, I’m new.”
”Cool,” you say, smile turning playful. ”Y’gonna join me out here more often then, Hayakawa?”
”Maybe. No one else will?”
”No one else will. Most of the workers who do smoke either do it on the roof or wherever they’re getting lunch, so. Just me.”
”Do I have to?”
”I’ll add it to your work duties. I’m the CEO after all!”
He frowns down at you, and you do your best to keep your face unreadable.
”Doubt the CEO would have a busted lighter. Or smoke short yellows,” he gestures to your almost finished cigarette. ”And they probably smoke in their office, if they do smoke.”
You laugh, leaning back against the wall of the building.
”Y’got me there. Just a lousy old accountant. Still your senior though,” you say, joyful lilt to your voice, and you think you see the ghost of a smile on his face.
”So it’s my duty as your junior then? We’re not even in the same department.”
You groan, resting your forehead against your knees.
”You’re killing me here Hayakawa. In more ways than one!” you exclaim, waving the butt of your cigarette up at him, cinders falling.
You think you hear him laugh. You raise your head slightly, peeking at him. Hayakawas cigarette is just below the halfway point, and you grumble to yourself. You’d gone out to the pub a lot last month, resulting in having to be stingy with your other vices.
Letting out a sigh, you drop the small embering butt into the ash tray, before standing up and turning to face him.
”Thanks for the light, Hayakawa,” you say, inclining your head, before looking at him once more. ”I’ll see you around, yeah?”
”Yeah.”
You walk past him with a small wave, and you swear a subtle scent of pine digs through the sickly nicotine.
——————
The room is warm and loud. It’s opressing, and Aki feels a drop of sweat trickle down his neck. You’ve been sitting next to him for around five songs now, and he hasn’t relaxed since you sat down.
You’re not right next to him, but still close enough to make him… nervous? Restless.
While you’re sitting as far back as possible on the couch, legs pulled to your chest, work heels dangling from your toes, nursing a drink, he’s sitting as far out on the edge as he can, elbows resting on bouncing knees, glass of beer on the table in front of him.
Kimura and Matsuda are singing some old rock song, and he hears you lightly humming along from behind him. As Matsuda attempts a screechy high note, Aki frowns. He’s not drunk enough for this.
As the song pewters out, you shuffle forward on the sofa, reaching your hand out to Kimura. Taking the microphone, you stand up, before holding your glass out to Aki.
He looks up at you. You’re smiling at him, expression nearly dripping in mirth.
”Hold this for me, will ya?” you say, shaking the glass. Aki feels his ears heat up, and he looks away as he grabs the glass.
”Thanks Hayakawa.”
As the starting notes of the song you picked play, you place your hand on his shoulder, pulling his head to rest against your hip. The heat on his ears spreads to his cheeks and Aki swears you must be trying to kill him.
Revenge.
Most of the people in the room, his coworkers, your colleagues, some people from other departments, are singing along, while others are talking, sipping on their drinks.
No one is really focused on you, no one but him. He looks up at you as you sway, your hazy eyes focused on the screen. Cheap liquor, cigarettes, and an underlying scent of… something else. Fresh and citrusy, yet floral. He doesn’t know if it’s a perfume, or just you, but Aki thinks he mighy be obsessed.
Your hand moves from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, your fingers lightly running through the length of his hair, and now Aki knows he’s obsessed.
He isn’t surprised really. Unless you’re delusional, the objective truth is never surprising. The sky is blue, the sun is hot, water is wet, and Hayakawa Aki is obsessed with you.
Your song has ended, microphone been passed to the next preformer, and you’ve sat down. Aki is still looking at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, but you’re still leaning against him, wrapping the strands of his hair around your fingers, so can you really blame him?
He wants to say something. Something that’ll make you look at him the way he looks at you. Something that will make you realize that he’s undeniably, irrevocably obsessed with you.
The words stick to his lungs like candied honey. His thoughts are faster than light, yet slower than a black hole.
”You wanna grab a smoke?”
It’s a cheap last resort, and he knows it, but the way you look at him, doe eyed and smiling, makes it so he doesn’t really care.
The way you grab his hand and pull him up from the couch makes his cheeks feel like they’re on fire. He hopes you don’t question it, or that you’re drunk enough to believe that it’s because of the alcohol, despite him not even finishing one glass of beer.
”You’ll have to let me mooch off you Hayakawa,” you mutter, as you drag him down the halls of the karaoke bar. ”I only brought my gum today.”
”What would you do if I said no?”
The words come out of his mouth before he can even think to stop them. You turn to look at him, your hand still tightly wrapped around his.
”Ahh, you’re a sick man Hayakawa. The fact that you can even think of denying a woman in need,” you pout, and Aki thinks he might burst into flames at any second.
She’s drunk, the reasonable part of him says.
Drunk words are sober thoughts, the hopeful annoying part of him whispers.
It’s not like you even said anything particularly seductive, or even that flirtatious. Maybe Aki is just that obsessed with you.
You seem unbothered by his lack of reply, having continued the treck out of the bar. Different songs are leaking out from each room you pass, but Aki can only focus on the click of your heels, the slight humming of your voice. He even thinks he can hear your heartbeat, but he’s unsure if he’s imagining it or if it’s maybe even his own, echoing outside his body.
Finally outside, you pull him into the alleyway between the karaoke bar and the nightclub next door. It’s narrow, and Aki fumbles after his pack of cigarettes as you lean against the wall facing him. Finally getting a hold on the box, he pulls it out of his pocket and holds it out to you.
”Still trying to be the best airplane passenger I see,” you jest, plucking a cigarette and placing it precariously between your lips.
”Always,” Aki replies, taking one for himself before pocketing the box and pulling out his lighter.
As he flicks the lighter, holding it to the end of his cigarette, Aki looks up at you. You’re leaning in, he realizes. Your eyes are focused on the small flame that’s just centimetres away from his lips, and his eyes follow you as you lean closer and closer, until your own cigarette is lit, and you’re back, leaning against the wall as if nothing had happened.
Ash falls from Akis cigarette, and he finally takes a drag. It’s rough, nicotine burning his lungs, but he can’t really say he cares. Only qualm he has about the current situation is that the stench of tobacco is covering the scent of you, and that it would probably be considered weird and taboo if he leaned over and kissed you right now.
”D’you like smoking Hayakawa?”
Your voice cuts through the muted music from the surrounding buildings and the noises from the street.
Aki meets your eyes before shrugging. ”Eh. I guess.”
”Mm. Doesn’t the way the scent sticks to your fingers bother you?”
”Not really? Never really thought about it.”
”Hm. Lucky,” you mumble before meeting his gaze. ”Y’smell like pine trees y’know? ’s really nice.”
You crouch down, taking a drag of your cigarette. Akis eyes flicker to the glowing embers, before moving to your face. You look tired, he thinks. Not just from tonight, but an exhaustion that seems to dig deep in to your bones. He crouches down with you, and your eyes snap to him, filled with an emotion he can’t really pinpoint.
”I don’t want you to feel like you have to be around me,” you say, almost out of nowhere. Your voice is uncharacteristically vunerable and you take a long drag before looking up to the sky.
”I don’t,” Aki says. ”Feel like that, I mean. I like spending time with you, even if it’s just like this.”
”I’m glad.”
——————
”Hey Hayakawa!”
It is not your first time in the IT departement. It is your first time in the IT departement with ulterior motives.
Navy eyes dart up to meet yours and you give him a smile.
”Wanna go get lunch?” you ask, and his eyes quickly move down to the clock on his computer screen before he looks back at you again.
”Yeah, sure.”
He stands up from his desk and walks up to you. You give him a grin and he reciprocates with a slight smile.
”Did you have anywhere specific in mind?” Hayakawa asks as the two of you step into the elevator.
”Uh, not really. I’ve always been kinda shit at making descisions,” you reply, a bit sheepish. He hums.
”No worries. Is the ramen place down the street okay with you?”
”Sure, sounds good.”
The rest of the elevator ride, as well as the walk to the restaurant is spent in relative silence. You bump in to a few familiar faces along the way, but neither of you stop to talk.
When you’ve sat down and ordered the two of you talk a bit about work and a bit about life. The conversations you have with Hayakawa are never just surface level, but they’re never deeper than they need to be. It’s comfortable, and you like that.
As you get up to pay and get ready to leave a voice interrupts you.
”I payed earlier.”
Your gaze snaps to Hayakawas, and he gives you a small grin.
”I’m paying next time then,” you tell him, and he nods in acceptance.
On the way back to your office building, Hayakawa grabs your hand and pulls you after him, guiding you to the small smoking area where you first met. You let out a short laugh.
”Feeling sentimental Hayakawa?”
Your words are almost entirely joking, but instead of laughing or playing along, he simply shrugs, as if to say so what if I am?
You’re taken aback for just a second, before you reach into your purse, fumbling for your pack. Once you grasp it, you pull it out and hold it to him, interrupting him as he reaches down towards his pockets.
”It’s the least I could do. After you payed and everything, even though I’m the one who asked you out.”
You see his eyes widen, and heat gathers in the tips of your ears as you realize your own wording.
”Not- not asked you out, just… I invited you out so I should’ve payed,” you mumble.
Silence hangs heavy in the air and your eyes never leave his. His eyes move from yours, down to your hand, and up to your face again.
”Just take a cigarette Hayakawa. Please.”
You stretch your arm a bit further and take a step closer. His fingers graze yours as he plucks the pack from your grasp. A spark runs through your body, from your fingers to your toes and up to your heart and brain.
Dumb. Irrational. Nonsensical.
Hayakawa has lit his gifted cigarette and is looking at you, offering the little box back to you. His gaze reminds you of how he looked at you when you first met, and you realize now that he was never really looking through you, he was simply looking at you.
The realization stuns you, and it takes the tiny clatter of your pack of cigarettes being shaken in front of your face to break you out of your trance.
”You okay?” Hayakawa asks.
”Yeah,” you say.
You’re not. Not really. Well, it’s not the end of the world, realizing you like Hayakawa more than you should, but it would be a lie to pretend you want this. Sure, he’s handsome, and you like spending time with him, but that should’ve been it.
You don’t really want to fall in love. Love makes you vulnerable. Not weak, but it gives you a weakness that you wouldn’t have otherwise.
In reality, love scares you, terrifies you. After years of feeling nearly nothing but an empty numbness, the electric spark Hayakawa has lit inside you is something that feels alien.
The nicotine stings in your throat, but the subtle scent of pine distracts you from the sensation. Feelings scare you, there’s no doubt about it, but maybe something about Hayakawa overpowers the fear.
——————
One Friday evening ends up leading Aki to an izakaya far away from his own apartment with plenty of coworkers he doesn’t recognize, but in the decently sized crowd he spots you. You’re sat down, citrusy drink in one hand and cigarette in the other. Beautiful is the first and only word that pops into his head.
Aki stands there for a bit, hovering around the shoulders of people he doesn’t know, before he hears your voice.
”Hayakawa! C’mere,” you call out with a wide smile, patting the seat next to you. As he sits down you wave over a waiter.
”Order whatever you want! I’ll pay.”
”Are you sure?” he asks.
”Mm, of course. Think of it as payback for the ramen that one time,” you say.
Aki hesitates for just a second before turning to the waiter and ordering a beer and some finger foods.
”We can share,” he offers.
”The bill?” you ask.
”No, the… the food.”
You blink slowly at him and he feels how his face gets warm. He doesn’t really care if you notice. He hopes you notice.
”Mm, okay. Should probably sober up a bit anyways,” you eventually say, stretching out your arms over your head. He can’t help but notice the curve of your spine as you do, how your bones creak and snap, and how you sigh in relief as you rest your elbows down against the table again.
”I’m glad you came Hayakawa,” you say quietly, almost so he can’t hear it under the buzz of the people around him. You’re smiling at him, content and soft, like a cat basking in the sunlight.
”I can’t stay long,” he forces out. He wishes he could, oh how he wants to stay, long into the night, just the two of you. ”My apartment is far and I need to get home before the trains stop.”
”My apartment is just a block away,” you mention, offhandedly, a hidden invitation, should he dare to take it. Aki just nods, aknowledging your words but not actually replying.
He doesn’t leave, and the longer he stays the faster his heart starts beating. Every time someone other than Aki gets up, says their goodbyes and leaves, your eyes snap to his, and a tiny smile plays on your lips. A teasing, knowing smile that he hopes and prays is reserved for him and only him.
A handful of hours pass and the two of you are the only people left around the table that was earlier filled with colleauges. You sit next to him, closer than before, entire body turned to face him, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair.
He could blame the wild blush covering his face on the alcohol, which wouldn’t be a complete lie, but he doesn’t want to and he doesn’t need to. Aki is not ashamed of the profound affection he feels for you. If anyone were to ask, be it you, his coworkers or any of his friends, he would not hesitate in telling the truth of his feelings.
”D’ya wanna leave?” you ask, shaking him from his thoughts. Aki nods and you stretch slightly in your seat before standing up.
”I’ll go pay then. Y’can wait outside and I’ll be right out.”
”Okay,” he says. He walks backwards almost the entire way to the door, keeping his eyes on you for as long as he can.
Only a minute or two passes before you pop out and grab his hand, starting to pull him back to your home. He follows you blindly down the entire block as you guide him.
The elevator you lead him in to is cramped. Your toes are nearly touching his and even with the way he’s leaning back against the mirror he can count the lashes on your eyes, the small beautymarks on your face and how many times your heart beats against his during the ride.
Aki hovers behind you as you unlock your front door, glancing at you when you hold the door open, letting him step in first. You follow him in, closing the door behind you and slipping off your shoes before disappearing into the apartment.
”You’ll have to make do with a futon I’m afraid,” you call out as he steps into your living room. You appear before him, suit jacket discarded and sleeves folded up. He blinks once or twice before moving towards you, grabbing the futon out of your arms and taking a few steps back again.
You eye him up and down where he stands, seeming to be lost in thought, before you clear your throat and lift your gaze to meet his eyes. ”I’ll get you some of my brothers old clothes, hang on.”
You dart off to your room as Aki squats down, folding out the futon and fixing the sheets. When he’s done he stands back up again, and after just a bit, you return with something in your arms.
”Here you are Hayakawa,” you say, stepping forward and placing a small pile of clothes on the coffee table next to him.
”You can call me Aki. If you’d like.”
He stares at you, waiting for a reaction to the spontaneous words. You blink a few times, before tilting your head just slightly.
”Okay. Aki it is.”
He stands there in your living room, frozen in place at how you’d said his name so easily, and how melodically it came out, as if you were some sort of siren, luring him to the murky depths.
”Good night Aki,” you say, breaking his trance. You wave at him from behind your bedroom door.
”Good night,” he replies, trying to hide the shake in his voice. You smile at him and he nearly melts into the futon behind him.
——————
Instead of the usual alarm, this Saturday you wake up to the sound of movement in your kitchen. You stretch under your covers and blink the sleep from your eyes. If it was any other Saturday you would’ve stayed in bed for at least another hour, but you already feel bad enough about your houseguest waking up before you.
After pulling on a pair of shorts and a hoodie, you carefully open your bedroom door and peak out. You see the remnants of his prescence in your living room, the folded up futon with the pile of your brothers old clothes on top.
”Hope you slept well,” you say as you enter the kitchen area. Aki stands bent over your coffee machine, but he raises his head as soon as he hears you.
”Mm, I did. Smells nice in here.”
You can see the way his eyebrows furrow as he realizes what he’s said, but you huff out a laugh and they relax almost in an instant.
”Bergamot incense,” you explain, and he hums.
You move through the kitchen towards your balcony door, shuffling past Aki where he stands, searching through your cupboards.
”Gonna grab a smoke. Join me when your coffee’s done, yeah?”
”Yeah.”
You take a seat on the little wicker couch and grab your pack of cigarettes from the table, lighting one and relaxing into the armrest. Aki joins you after just a minute or two.
It’s comfortable with him, easy and simple, despite the complicated feelings that you’re not sure how to deal with.
You lean forward to tap off the ash into the ashtray and as you fall back against your seat you glance over at Aki to find his eyes already meeting yours. You can see him swallow, even though his cup is balancing on the armrest.
His eyes seem to move from your eyes to your fingers, up to your hair and down to your legs, up to your lips and finally back to your eyes again.
”I like your company,” he says quietly, like a secret shared under the covers during a sleepover.
I like you.
You know what he means, and the alien little spark inside you can’t help but grow at the easy out he’s given you, even though you’re pretty sure you don’t want it. You take a drag of your cigarette as the morning sun shines across your balcony.
”I like your company too,” you reply simply, with the calm of the ocean after a storm.
I like you too.
You hope you managed to get your feelings across in the same way Aki did. You hope you haven’t been reading into everything he’s said and done.
Aki nods before taking a sip of his coffee. Neither of you speak for a bit, letting the sounds of morning commutes and birdsong fill the space instead.
After a few minutes, you shuffle closer to him on your small love seat, pulling up your legs to rest next to you. Aki offers you the cup of coffee and you reach over and place your cigarette between his lips before grabbing the cup and taking a sip as he takes a drag.
As the smoke rises up in the dewy morning air Aki leans down, resting his head against the window behind you. You turn your head just slightly and meet his eyes.
”Does that count as our first kiss?” he asks. ”Even if it was indirect.”
You let out a quiet laugh. ”Sure. ’s a nice moment for it, so.”
He hums. ”Any moment with you is nice.”
”Same goes,” you say.
Dawn and something you might call happiness warms you from your face to your heart.