Chapter Text
The unfair thing about Kominato Ryousuke was how he always looked so put-together and impeccable regardless how high or low the sun shone down their bloody asses.
It was currently nearly four-thirty, and Youichi already knew how much of a mess he looked with his paper due midnight and him starting promptly at three-ish. His brain juices were long wrung dry and his hand was pulling at his hair in frustration. The pompadour he had carefully styled for his morning class now stuck out in disarray, and Youichi regretted so much he wants to throw himself on his bed and give up on this futile endeavor.
Yet here Ryousuke stood in all his glory after a six-hour back-to-back, thick brown coat draped neatly over his slim shoulders, hair soft and glowing a pretty pink under the slanting rays of the evening sun, arching a questioning brow at the multiple research journals strewn haphazardly across he dining table. Youichi had seen Ryousuke tired, angry, frustrated, even drunk, once -- but he never lost the self-assured charm that gave the constant impression that he knew what he was doing all the damned time. And most of the time, to his credit, he did know what he was doing, more so than Youichi could say for himself.
Again, the world is so bloody unfair.
"I'm so fucked," Youichi moaned despairingly, dropping his head down to the table with a thud. He couldn't help the whine that slipped into his voice as he propped his chin on the table and gazed at Ryousuke imploringly.
Ryousuke was unforgiving. "I told you to start on it earlier."
"I tried last week! Please, Ryou-san, you have taken this class before! It wouldn't hurt a bit to help."
"Staring at your laptop for five minutes does not count as trying," Ryousuke deadpanned, unimpressed, as he headed for his room to drop his satchel bag at the door and unbutton his coat.
Youichi straightened a little at his seat before he fell back to hunch over his laptop with a disgruntled scowl etched on his face. "It does so in my book," he muttered under his breath.
"What did you say?" Youichi caught the silver of threat in Ryousuke's tone and had enough self-preservation to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he re-focused on his pathetic work-in-progress and managed to add another line to his shitty essay he theasaurized after ten more minutes of torture.
He was going to die if he kept up at this pace. The essay had at least a four-thousand word requirement. In the middle of his internal turmoil, Ryousuke took a seat diagonal to him, setting up his laptop silently without a single word of concern.
Okay, so Youichi knew he deserved it, but still! How can Ryousuke be so stoic?! They were the Iron Wall of Seidou! Their partnership had to count for something even after graduating Seidou. Moreover, it wasn't as if they didn't work together on their current baseball team. Ryousuke was so needlessly hard on him sometimes, and Youichi had a lurking suspicion that Ryousuke enjoyed watching Youichi beg for his help.
"Looking at me like that isn't going to help your case." The corner of Ryousuke's mouth was quirked ever so slightly, even as he started typing into his laptop. "But I suppose I can trade my notes for a week's worth of laundry and dinner."
"What's the point of ripping me off for dinners when you can have your boyfriend make you one?" A bitterness Youichi didn't know existed seeped into his voice. He blinked, thrown off by his own reaction.
Ryousuke had his face tilted to Youichi's direction now, fingers resting lightly on his keyboard. "Oh? Are you jealous?"
Youichi felt himself flush hot, hackles rising, immediately on the defensive. "I'm not jealous! Your relationships have nothing to do with me. I'm just saying, well, you know..."
Sooo, Youichi admittedly had zero idea where he was going with this. He let himself trail off, and an unusual awkward silence fell between them.
"Okay," Ryousuke relented surprisingly fast, the curve of his mouth widening by the slightest bit. Youichi had a distinct feeling he was being} laughed at. Ryousuke turned his attention back to his laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard as he continued nonchalantly, "We broke up anyway."
Guilt settled uneasily at his abdomen. While he might be generally a little, tiny bit pissy about how Ryousuke had gotten attached and left him to wallow in singlehood with his lonesome, he wouldn't have brought it up if he knew. "Shit, sorry, I didn't know." Youichi paused, then asked because he was both nosy and concerned: "When? Why?"
"It was more physical than emotional, believe me. Nothing to be sorry for," Ryousuke said offhandedly as he frowned at something on the screen. Youichi resisted the weird urge to lean over and smooth the wrinkled skin over with his thumb. It looked so out of place with his smooth pale complexion. "We ended it a while back. I'm surprised it took you so long to notice. Anyway, things just don't work out sometimes. You'd know if you've been in a relationship."
Youichi spluttered at the implication, mildly offended that Ryousuke so easily fell into the assumption that he had never been in a relationship. While it was unfortunately true, he could have at least pretended that Youichi had appeal one way or the other. "Who said I haven't found a girlfriend?!"
There was a long pause, and then: "And who's the lucky girl?"
It seemed like Youichi had gotten Ryousuke's undividing attention yet again. Even without fully opening his eyes, Youichi felt pinned in place under Ryousuke's gaze. He swallowed hard and tried not to squirm. "Well, that bastard Sawamura finally introduced me to Wakana-chan, so there's that!"
He felt immensely pleased with himself for coming up with that on the whim. It was technically not a lie since he was supposed to meet Wakana this Saturday to help her out with some softball shopping. Apparently Sawamura had some plans with Miyuki that would occupy the whole of his weekend, god knows what, and with the disgusting bedroom eyes Youichi had the displeasure of witnessing, he didn't really want to find out. It was a huge surprise that Sawamura actually delivered, this time, after so many goddamned years of pestering Sawamura for an official introduction.
"It's going well, I take it?" There was something off about Ryousuke's voice, but Youichi couldn't pin-point what.
"We haven't met yet." he admitted with a grunt, not wanting to take the lie too far. He didn't really want to lie about something so trivial, and it wasn't as if Ryousuke really looked down on him. "We are meeting this Saturday to get a glove for her. I'd probably bring her to the place we usually go to."
"I see."
"Oh yeah, didn't you mention your laces are wearing lately? I can get you new ones."
Ryousuke shrugged. "Sure, thanks."
And thus the topic was closed.
An easy silence descended, afterwards, with Youichi cracking his knuckles and swearing he would bang out all four thousand words by seven if it'd kill him, and Ryousuke answering that he'd be there to bury his corpse without missing a beat. Youichi simply made a face at Ryousuke in response, used to his obtrusive responses by now.
It was nearly seven at night when Ryousuke pressed up warmly against his arm to peer at his laptop to check on his progress.
Ryousuke clucked his tongue disapprovingly as he angled his face to Youichi. They were so close that his hair brushed against the side of Youichi's cheek when he turned. Youichi caught a whiff of Ryousuke's shampoo that had secretly became his favorite. It smelled like sandalwood and passionfruit and summer, and eventually all the different flavors just meshed together to become a uniquely-Ryousuke kind of thing. He especially loved it when Ryousuke draped himself over him on lazy days and watched him play video games while mouthing snarky commentary in his ear as he weaved his way through dark labyrinths and bloody gunfights. The nice scent of Ryousuke's shampoo that would wash over him combined with Ryousuke's smartass remarks started to feel comfortably like home.
He had wondered more than once how appropriate it would be if he asked for permission to bury his nose in Ryousuke's soft pink hair.
"-- better bet of salvaging your submission."
Youichi blinked, caught off-guard and mildly disoriented, abruptly aware he had his head in the clouds while Ryousuke had been talking to him. Ryousuke was looking at him expectantly for an answer. "Huh?"
The corners of Ryousuke's mouth twitched in obvious amusement. Youichi felt heat rising up his cheeks and tried to force them down. What the fuck is he doing, blushing like some teenager who got caught ogling at his crush. "I said, I think I'd better lend you my notes. But since you're so clearly in control, I guess you don't need it anymore."
"Nooo, please, Ryou-san!" Youichi pleaded. He rounded his eyes wide and attempted the best imitation of Sawamura's puppy-dog eyes. If it worked on someone as fucked in the head as the bastard Miyuki was, it might work on Ryousuke. It was probably a shitty shot at it, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Ryousuke snorted, dropping a hearty smack down on Youichi's head immediately after. Affronted, Youichi huffed as he rubbed the stinging spot on his forehead. "Rude," he grumbled under his breath.
"This is the last time I'm helping you," he warned. "I'll go get my thumbdrive, give me a second."
Ryousuke's chair scraped backward as he stood, turning into the direction of his room. Youichi immediately felt a little colder without Ryousuke's warmth pressing into him. In an attempt to distract himself, he fumbled around with the messy papers on the table to search for his phone. He managed to fish it from the bottom of his bulky folder, swiping it unlock.
He ignored the texts from his university friends first, since they were probably just freaking out over the essay like he was. He scrolled down to find three messages from Sawamura, two from Miyuki, and the last one from an unknown number.
From: Sawamura Eijun
Senpai! Three at the station on Saturday, okay?!! (▼・ᴥ・▼)
From: Sawamura Eijun
I gave your number to Wakana by the way!!!!! GOOD LUCK!!!! (◕ᴗ◕✿) STOP SAYING IM A BAD KOUHAI AFTER THIS!!!
From: Sawamura Eijun
WHAT THE HELL, MIYUKI KAZUYA KEEPS LAUGHING AT ME!! HE SAYS IM GONNA GET KILLED WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING WHY
Youichi couldn't help an exasperated eye-roll as he tapped out a quick reply to thank Sawamura for his long-overdue help, slipping in a promise to crash their place soon. They hadn't met in a while, and as disgusting as it sounded, he kind of missed his stupid noisy underclassman and the tanuki bastard.
From: Miyuki Kazuya
hahaha, pls dont tell me u r really going for the wakana date
From: Miyuki Kazuya
lolol, if you do you are reaaaaalllllllly stupider than i think you are hahaha!
A scowl fitted across the length of Youichi's mouth. What the fuck is Miyuki on about? What's wrong with meeting new people? With his face still contorted in a hilariously-conflicted expression, Youichi sent multiple question marks and exclamation marks back to Miyuki.
Just to get the last word in, he added:
To: Miyuki Kazuya
i dont want to hear it from someone who's emotionally constipated and dk how to deal w feelings for a certain SOMEONE
Finally, he pulled up the last text message on his screen, having an idea who it was by then.
From: Unknown Number
Hi, Kuramochi-kun! This is Wakana. I'll see you at 3 on Saturday at the station. :)
Pleasant, nice, and to the point. Youichi had a good impression of Wakana already. It was only half-way through his reply that he sensed an ominous presence hovering behind his back.
He braced himself, then turned, very slowly, to see the scariest smile he had ever seen plastered on Ryousuke's pretty face. He leveled a silent, flat look down at Youichi while keeping the stony smile in place. Because Ryousuke was at the position where he could actually, literally, stare down at him, the cold, deceptive calmness that was anything but sent chills down Youichi's spine, and Youichi's unease was amplified tenfold. He had a distinct impression that he should be aware of the reason behind Ryousuke's thinly-veiled ire, but he was genuinely at a loss here.
"... Ryou-san?" He was starting to fear for his life.
Ryousuke pushed the thumbdrive towards Youichi wordlessly, then turned back to his room and shut the door. Youichi had a terrible, terrible feeling he fucked up majorly somewhere. Someone just needed to tell him precisely what it was.