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Call him picky, but there were a lot of things in this world that Shirabu Kenjirou just generally did not like. Near the top of his list, was undoubtedly parties. Add in the fact that he didn’t know anyone and his only friend had ditched him, and you pretty much had one of his worst social nightmares. Kenjirou sighed, lifting the ice cold glass of fruit punch to his lips and taking a small sip. At least the drinks were good. But good drinks weren’t going to save Taichi’s ginger ass when Kenjirou got his hands on him. Seriously, what sort of friend drags you out to a party and then ditches you just a few minutes later? An asshole one who’s looking for a sucker-punch to the face, that’s the sort.
He checked his watch again. It’d been twenty minutes since Taichi had ditched him to go bother this younger freshman boy with bangs worse than Kenjirou’s. Even though Kenjirou, in his most humble opinion, didn’t think his bangs were really that bad. Just thinking about the immediate betrayal made Kenjirou grit his teeth and grip his cup a little harder. Some friend. Inviting you, dragging you when you said no, and then ditching.
Kenjirou presses the cold glass to the side of his face, sighing at the sheer cold. It was stuffy in here, just another reason Kenjirou wasn’t a party person. Honestly, the last time he’d actually gone to a party was…uh… high school graduation…? And he certainly didn’t stay long. Now he was a sophomore in college, so he supposes some things really never change. Up until this point, he’d been leaning up against one of the corner walls, which in hindsight, probably didn’t help the stuffy feeling. Scrunching his nose in distaste at the strong scent of alcohol that wafted out to his little corner, Kenjirou decided to make his way out to the balcony.
~~~
It was much nicer out here, staring up at the cloudless sky and sparkling stars. Breathing in the warm (alcohol free) air, Kenjirou leaned his arms on the railing, staring up at the moon. Sure he was focused on the surroundings, but he’d always prided himself on his spatial awareness. Meaning, Kenjirou heard the balcony sliding glass door open, heard the sound of footsteps, and felt the presence behind him before they even spoke. But even knowing they were there couldn’t have prepared Kenjirou for the sound of their, notably musical, and extremely nice voice.
“Oh. Hey.”
Raising an eyebrow, Kenjirou spins on his heel, turning to look at this mysterious stranger. He’s tall, maybe a couple inches taller than Kenjirou himself. Ash blonde hair was dip-dyed darker at the tips, style mussed from where, if Kenjirou had to guess, he’d been running his hands through it. Unlike Kenjirou, who had thrown on a white dress shirt and dark pants and called it a day, this guy seemed to have actually made an effort. An unbuttoned collared shirt that was such a dark shade of purple it would’ve looked black if not for the moonlight, and black skinny jeans. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, revealing strong, toned arms. Piercing brown eyes were accentuated by the slight but dark eyeliner framing them. Kenjirou couldn’t decide whether he wanted to stare or laugh. The guy looked like he was from a 2000s boy band… but he was also admittedly attractive. Very attractive.
Kenjirou cleared his throat.
“Yes?”
His curt, short, and frankly probably pretty rude response seemed to take the other guy slightly by surprise. Still, it didn’t seem to deter him like most. Instead, the guy just cocked his head to the side in a way that was also unfairly attractive, the corner of his lips twitching upwards as a slight smile spread across his face. Kenjirou hated how much the expression reminded him of a curious little puppy.
“Aren’t you snappy?” he snorted, running his hand through already messy hair again. “Let me guess…” He made a dramatic show of looking Kenjirou up and down (the caramel haired man fought off of a blush), glancing around the balcony, back inside past the glass doors, at the cup in his hand, and then back to his face. “Not much of a party person.”
Kenjirou huffed, taking another small sip from his drink, which was rapidly becoming room temperature. Yuck. “What gave it away? Was it the clothes? The singular drink?” He honestly wasn’t expecting an answer, considering most people usually just gave up talking to him at this point.
He turned back to leaning on the rail of the balcony, looking out at the sky. Another set of arms looped over the railings, and Kenjirou turned his head slightly, surprised to see that the other had decided to join him. “No, actually,” the guy hummed. “It’s the fact that someone like you is out here all alone. And well… you don’t look like a party person.”
Shirabu Kenjirou was an intelligent individual. He had graduated valedictorian of his high school class, gotten multiple scholarships for various colleges, and was currently studying pre-med. Unfortunately, Shirabu Kenjirou was also what Taichi liked to call ‘a smartass’. So, before he could even begin to try and register what that first statement possibly could have meant, he was firing back. “What is that supposed to mean?” Before the other guy could even get another word in to explain himself, Kenjirou was talking again, muttering in minor annoyance. Stupid cute guys and their stupid questions. “And so what if I’m not? This is a shit party anyways.” And then he made the mistake of turning his head, looking over at his mysterious companion.
For a moment there, the other guy looked stunned. Eyes wide, eyebrows raised, mouth a little open. It was almost cute, and for a moment, Kenjirou got a little self-conscious, worried he’d gone overboard and been too blunt. He had a tendency to do that, hence why he really didn’t have a lot of friends, nor had never been on a date. To his surprise however, the other doesn’t move away. In fact, he leans into the railing a little more, still staring at Kenjirou with a glimmer of amusement in those dark eyes that’s enough to make the pre-med student acutely aware of the flush that’s probably creeping up the back of his neck right now.
“Oh really?” the guy inquires, eyes sparkling with an emotion Kenjirou can’t quite place. “What makes you say that?” He almost sounded like he was trying not to laugh, which irked the college sophomore even more. But it was notably not his usual annoyance. Instead, it was this sort of curious annoyance, and so Kenjirou just couldn’t help himself. He shrugged, and began to talk. He’d never been one to mince words. Sue him.
“It’s loud. There’s way too many people. The place reeks of alcohol. And not to mention there’s literally people making out around practically every corner.”
“That’s literally what a party is.”
“Whatever, this one’s just a cut above the rest, then,” he puffs. His glass is empty now, so he’s left mindlessly tapping it against the metal railing, trying very hard to ignore where he can see the guy staring at him from his peripheral vision. Kenjirou’s kind of glad he hasn’t left yet, despite how rude he’d been. Wait, what? “Whoever planned this out must’ve been really pressed for time. Or just an idiot.”
Cute guy leaning next to him on the balcony laughs, loud and open. It’s a nice laugh, warm and a little husky. And maybe Kenjirou’s just a little attention-starved, because he swears the guy’s laugh is almost musical. God, what is this, a rom-com? “Okay then,” the guy chuckles once more. “Where would you rather be Mr. Too Cool for Us?”
“Studying.”
“Oh? What for?”
“Medicine.”
“Oh, so you’re smart too? Cute.”
Kenjirou startled at that, flipping his head towards the side to stare at him in some sort of disbelief. The guy isn’t looking at him, instead resting his chin on his arms and staring off the balcony. Even in the dark, the red flush coloring the back of his neck and tips of his ears is visible. It’s almost as if he hadn’t meant to say that, and was now embarrassed by letting it slip. Though Kenjirou doubts he’s much better, because he can feel that same heat in his own cheeks. Desperately trying to force it down, he attempts to replace it with a scowl. But just as he was about to open his mouth to shoot back with a comment that probably would’ve just flustered him more, a voice from behind calls out. Why did everyone insist on sneaking up on him today?!
“KENJIROU!”
Kenjirou spins around, hissing when his ankle hits the railing with the quick motion. Taichi Kawanishi, one of his closest friends since high school and betrayer extraordinaire jogs out onto the balcony towards him like he hadn’t ditched him entirely. Dick. Friendship with Taichi cancelled, Shigeru was his best friend. Sure, Kenjirou’s childhood friend was just as much of an asshole, but he knew better than to leave Kenjirou alone. Speaking of which, the med student was getting ready to give Taichi a piece of his mind about just that when-
“Oh hey, I didn’t know you knew Semi, Kenjirou.”
Static.
Vaguely, Kenjirou can register the guy, Semi, kicking off the railing to talk happily to Taichi, a wide grin on his face. But mostly, his thoughts were scrambled because he knew that name. Semi… Semi… SEMI-
“Thanks for inviting us to your party, dude. It’s about time I got Kenjirou away from studying.”
Kenjirou whipped his head around so fast that for a moment his vision started to spin and he nearly gave himself whiplash. “THIS IS YOUR PARTY?!” he exclaimed indignantly, cheeks flushed an embarrassed red. Oh my god he was an absolute idiot. Of course this was Semi’s party! They shared a general education course and lived on the same floor of the dorms no wonder they were invited. Semi Eita, junior, people around campus loved the guy. ‘Would it be more or less embarrassing if I just threw myself off the balcony right now…?’ his brain provided unhelpfully. Shit, this guy was gonna hate him, all because Kenjirou had a sharp tongue and too sarcastic of a mouth. How the hell had he messed up this bad–
Kenjirou was snapped out of his spiraling thoughts by Semi laughing.
Semi laughing hard.
So hard in fact, that he was practically doubled over, desperately trying to heave air into his lungs as he wheezed. Some small part of Kenjirou’s brain liked that it was him that made Semi laugh. The other, more logical part argued that Semi was laughing at his own expense. Taichi, seriously who gave him the right to be so observant and know Kenjirou so well, it was a recipe for disaster– looked between the two once or twice before his mouth fell open. “Oh my god. Kenjirou. Please don’t tell me you were just complaining to Semi about his own party–”
Kenjirou didn’t even need to respond. Apparently, the look on his face (all flushed cheeks and tousled hair and wide eyes) combined with Semi’s continuous round of hysterical laughter was answer enough because Taichi just snorted. Note to self, Kenjirou needed new friends. The ginger clapped him on the back, gave him a smug-ass smirk that Kenjirou wanted to smack off his face, turned around, and moved to head back inside. All he left his supposed ‘best friend’ with was a lazy ‘Nice flirting!’ thrown over his shoulder. And then he was gone.
Kenjirou really needed new friends.
“ASSHOLE!” he growls back even though Taichi is long gone and definitely can’t hear him. His anger simmers down a bit through, as his attention is once again diverted to where Semi’s laughter seems to finally be calming down. It’s turned into slight hiccups and gasps for air. Kenjirou stares at him, unimpressed and trying to ignore the fact that he’s positive he’s blushing.
An exhale escapes the older. “God-” Semi uses the railing as leverage to stand up straight again, looking unfairly good post-laughter fit and leaning against bars of metal. Still, Kenjirou doesn’t miss the opportunity to fix him with a glare. “Sorry, sorry!” Semi raises his hands playfully as if surrendering. “You just- pfft- I wasn’t expecting it. I thought you knew.” It was getting really hard to keep this anger up when Semi just looked so fucking attractive. Damn cute boys. They get away with everything.
Semi walks right up to him and Kenjirou swallows because this guy is so unfair. “Let’s start over. Semi Eita,” he introduces, holding out a hand. Kenjirou raises an eyebrow skeptically, but sets his glass down on a small bench nearby and takes it. Semi’s hand is warm, larger than his, with a few callouses on the fingertips. Right… Semi played the guitar, he remembered hearing that somewhere. The warmth practically engulfed him, and in a desperate attempt not to focus on how nice his hand fit into the palm of Semi’s, Kenjirou moved to think about something else. Sweet revenge. “And you?” the ash blonde asks, even though he probably already knows because of Taichi. Despite that, Kenjirou just can’t pass on the opportunity to be a shit.
“Secret,” he responds blankly.
Semi stares at him. “Are you kidding?” He doesn’t even sound angry. Just confused. Like he can’t believe Kenjirou would do something so petty. And then he’s rolling his eyes (fondly, Kenjirou notes), and crosses his arms over his chest. Kenjirou immediately misses the warmth, curling his hand in his pocket even though it's not nearly the same. “You really are something.”
Feeling triumphant and like he’d won, Kenjirou basks in his momentary confidence, picking up his glass from the bench and gently handing it to Semi. “I’m going back to my dorm. At least the drinks were good.” Despite it all, his tone is much lighter now, filled with a weird sort of fondness Kenjirou didn’t even know his sassy comebacks were capable of holding. He turns and begins to walk away before his brain can even try to process that, but is stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he comes face to face with a grinning Semi. Clearly, the ash blonde had started to pick up on Kenjirou’s little quips, and read easily between the lines. Once he has Kenjirou’s attention, his hand awkwardly moves off his shoulder. “See you around, Kenjirou.”
“Shirabu.”
He corrected the older without even thinking about it. Semi’s brow furrowed in confusion, so he clarified, fidgeting a little with his hands. “Shirabu. Kenjirou is my… first name.” And at that, Semi goes so brilliantly red that Kenjirou was honestly worried he might need medical attention. For the guy who had been so suave and chill just moments ago, Semi waves his hands around, very clearly flustered as he clears his throat and tries to explain himself.
“O-OH! Sorry! Kawanishi called– so I thought—.... Your name is uh–....” After a couple moments of floundering, Semi seems to regather his bearings (unfortunate, Kenjirou actually thought his panicking was sort of adorable- wait. what–), hand rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “You uh… you have a pretty name.”
Kenjirou stares, mind running a marathon trying to catch up and process. But whatever little Kenjirous were running around in his head trying to pass the baton, it had probably ended up being less of a ‘pass’ and more of a ‘falling flat on his face’. Needless to say, now he’s probably the one who looks like he needs medical attention.
The flush staining Kenjirou’s cheeks must’ve restored even more of his confidence, because with newfound determination, Semi reaches forward and gently takes his hand. Clasping Kenjirou’s hand in his own (once again Kenjirou marvels at his warmth), Semi gives him another firm yet playful handshake. Then, he turns casually, like he didn’t just completely blow up Kenjirou’s entire world view, and begins to walk away. “See you around, Shirabu.”
Right when Semi pulls open the glass balcony door, he turns to look over his shoulder one last time, where Kenjirou is still staring. Semi, apparently not expecting that, goes red, but offers a shy wave before stepping officially off the balcony and back into the building.
Admittedly, it took Kenjirou more than a few moments to reboot, in which he was just staring at the glass door where Semi had just been. When he finally shakes himself back to reality, the first thing he notices is the folded piece of paper lying in his palm. Semi must have slipped it to him during that last handshake. His brow creasing, Kenjirou unfolds it slowly, face already growing hot again as he realizes what it was.
On the crisp folded paper in tilted but otherwise fairly neat handwriting is…
‘Semi Eita: XXX-XXX-XXX’
Oh god. Oh god… he was totally fucked.
~~~
There were a lot of things in this world that Shirabu Kenjirou did not like.
Parties were one of them.
He stares at the paper in his hand.
Maybe it was time to rewrite the list.