Archive of Our Own

“Hello?”

“Ah, Reo! You finally picked up!”

“You… called me six times, Bachira.”

“I’m surprised it took you less than ten times, honestly. You only ever pick up the phone for Nagi, huh?”

“…did you have a reason for calling me six times in a row, then?”

“Oh, yeah! Did you get my emails? Did you see the invites I sent out?”

“…yes.”

“And…?”

“And what?”

“You haven’t RSVP’d yet!”

“I figured not responding was enough of an answer.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Reo. Come on, it’s been so long since we’ve all been able to hang out together like this. Plus, I invited your boyfriend, too, so you HAVE to come.”

“My boyfriend?”

“Nagi…?”

“Nagi?”

“Isn’t he your…”

“He’s not.”

“What? Since when?”

“…I haven’t been keeping track. Two months, I guess.”

“Two months… oh, is that why I haven’t seen you outside in so long? Because you broke up with Nagi?”

“He broke up with me.”

“HUH?”

“He broke up with—look, Bachira, Nagi isn’t the reason I’ve been avoiding everyone. I’m fine. Really.”

“Did Nagi seriously break up with you? Nagi broke up with you?”

“…I’m fine, Bachira, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Right… right. Sorry, Reo, I get why you wouldn’t want to come to tomorrow’s thing, then. You don’t have to RSVP.”

“What—are you saying this because of the news about Nagi? I told you, I’m fine.”

“…but—”

“That’s enough. I’ll come to the party tomorrow.”

“You will? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure… ah, would it be fine if I brought my girlfriend?”

“…”

“…”

“Your WHAT?”

“Reo, you made it!” Bachira greets him at the door with a wide smile. His eyes flicker towards the short girl next to Reo, and his smile falters for just a second. A moment later, it’s back to his regular beam.

“We made it,” Reo responds with a weak grin of his own. He’s wearing his favorite cashmere sweater (it used to be Nagi’s favorite, too, but Reo finds that fact irrelevant), but even still, his skin feels awfully prickly. “Bachira, this is Kazumi. Kazumi, meet Bachira.”

“Nice to meet you!” Bachira says energetically. “Reo’s girlfriend, right?”

Kazumi nods once. Reo was worried that she would be unnerved by Bachira’s enthusiasm, but she seems relatively unfazed. Tentatively, Reo wonders if tonight might not be as bad as he’d originally thought—

“Wow, you seem super different from Nagi,” Bachira continues, before his eyes widen and he slaps a hand over his mouth. “Oh, uh… sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine,” Reo dismisses before the situation can blow anymore out of proportion. In any case, it wasn’t like Reo could discount what Bachira was saying. Kazumi’s short stature and long, dark hair were sharp contrasts to Nagi’s—

Reo cuts off his line of thought. He was here to prove that he was over Nagi, not that he was still wallowing in a cesspool of his own misery.

Not that he was wallowing in a cesspool of his own misery at all, but Reo’s assurances to Bachira just the previous day that he was well-adjusted to his new situation may have been a bit exaggerated. Reo doesn’t think Bachira particularly needs to know that.

Kazumi frowns next to him, but says nothing further. With a sheepish grin and awkward laugh, Bachira lets them inside, where people have already taken to populating the large table in the middle of the room. There’s Chigiri, there’s Kunigami, there’s Bachira, there’s even Barou, but of all the people in the room, Reo’s eyes gravitate—as they always have—to one person.

Nagi is sitting between Chigiri and Kunigami with his typical expression of apathy, wearing a dark turtleneck that Reo would almost think was one he had gifted Nagi if not for the knowledge that Nagi refused to wear anything Reo had bought him. Instead, he had always preferred simply snatching as he liked from Reo’s closet himself. It had been a terribly endearing trait of his to Reo, watching Nagi struggle his way into clothes that were much too small for him. Now, though, unable to pull his eyes away from the nicely-fitted turtleneck that tickles familiarity at the corners of his mind, Reo wonders if he’s been reading that wrong, too.

It wouldn’t be the first thing Reo had apparently read wrong.

“You’re staring.”

Reo startles at Kazumi’s voice, enough to pull his eyes away.

“…oh?”

“You’re staring,” Kazumi repeats. Her words bleed with badly suppressed annoyance, and Reo can’t find it in himself to blame her for it. 

His relationship with Kazumi, after all, was doomed from the start. It was less than two weeks after the breakup that Reo had thrown himself into date after mindless date—but only because it had taken less than two weeks of bitter reminiscing for Reo to grow sick of himself and the sound of his own looping thoughts. The first few dates hadn’t worked out, not exactly, but when he’d first met Kazumi and saw the barely concealed heartbreak lingering in her eyes—one that mirrored his own, no doubt—he had had the vain thought that this arrangement would suffice as a minor distraction, for at least one of them.

Reo can’t speak as to their relationship’s effectiveness as to a distraction for Kazumi, but for himself, it’s been a weak simulacrum of a panacea. He knows it, too—knows it in the way Nagi’s name falls out of his mouth a little too often in entirely unrelated conversation, knows it in the way his eyes linger a little too long on empty spaces that used to be occupied by lazy and dangling limbs, knows it in the way his hand hesitates for a pause too long before linking his fingers with a hand that’s a little too lithe, a little too delicate. He knows Kazumi knows too, because although he does put a modicum of effort into hiding his greater tells, he’s still not very subtle. Kazumi’s been more overt about her distaste for Reo’s such mannerisms recently, doing little to hide a slight sneer when she sees Reo linger too long in front of a photo frame with one of the two subjects conspicuously cut out.

Reo’s not entirely delusional. He knows it won’t be long before this relationship, too, falls apart, but he figures he might as well stretch it to its extent before letting go entirely. He ignores the voice in his head that murmurs that he did the exact same with his relationship with Nagi.

Still, in hindsight, Reo really shouldn’t have brought Kazumi to a gathering of his friends, friends who have all borne witness to his prior relationship, friends who can barely imagine him without a lanky white-haired boy drooped over him. Hindsight, though, is 20/20, and Reo only comes to such a realization much too late.

“You’re staring, still,” Kazumi repeats wearily for the third time. Sometime in the midst of Reo’s wandering thoughts, his gaze, too, had shifted back to Nagi, and he quickly pulls his eyes away again.

“Sorry,” Reo mumbles, vaguely ashamed. He pulls his sleeves further down his arms and clears his throat. “Shall we… take a seat?”

Kazumi nods, and they move together towards the two remaining empty seats on the table. The seats, Reo notices, are the farthest possible ones from Nagi. Reo slides into his seat quietly so as to attract little attention, but when he looks up, he finds Nagi staring intently at him. His mouth opens slightly, and Reo almost thinks he begins to lift his hand in a wave, but before he can tell for sure, Reo quickly looks away.

It’s only a few moments later that Bachira takes his own seat at the head of the table, and with a wide grin, he announces, “Let’s eat!”

“Let’s eat,” Reo murmurs quieter among the other voices that follow.

Actually, the spread on the table is quite lavish, and Reo picks up from the miscellaneous chatter that starts around the table that it was a joint contribution of Bachira, Isagi, Chigiri, and surprisingly, Barou.

“Barou isn’t just a good maid, he’s a good cook, too,” Bachira teases, and even Reo snickers at Barou’s subsequent reaction of nearly overtoppling the entire table in his efforts to reach over and strangle Bachira. When the laughter dies down, it’s Chigiri that speaks up.

“Long time no see, Reo,” he remarks, pulling out Reo’s name pointedly. “Where’ve you been?”

Reo laughs lightly. He can feel Nagi’s eyes on him, but he fixes his gaze on Chigiri instead. “Here and there,” he says easily. “Sorry, I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy for your boyfriend, too?” Kunigami asks. 

A pit opens in Reo’s stomach. Now, he can feel Kazumi’s stare on him, too.

Reo is starting to get the horrible, horrible suspicion that absolutely no one at the table—excluding himself, Nagi, and Kazumi—has any idea that they’ve broken up at all. He takes a slow inhale. He pastes a placid smile on his face.

“Nagi and I broke up.”

The table falls into a stunned silence. The only one of his friends who doesn’t look absolutely shell-shocked is Bachira, who simply shifts awkwardly in his seat.

“What?”

“When?”

“How?”

“Why?”

Reo ignores the barrage of questions save for one. “It was about two months ago.”

“One month,” Reo is surprised to hear Nagi correct. “One month, two weeks, five days.”

Reo stares at Nagi.

Nagi stares back.

Reo pulls his eyes away. “Anyway, it’s no big deal. I… have a girlfriend now, see?”

He gestures weakly in Kazumi’s direction, but can’t bring himself to look her way—he hasn’t been able to look at her at all this conversation, actually. Maybe if he had, he would have seen her next words coming.

“You’re pathetic.”

Reo’s head snaps up. “What?”

“You’re pathetic,” Kazumi repeats, and now that Reo’s looking at her, he can see her fists clenched on the table, her eyebrows drawn tightly together, her eyes brimming with what must be furious tears. “Can’t you see it?”

Reo’s mouth goes dry. He is suddenly and terribly all too aware of all other eyes on them, and he burns under the attention.

“I don’t—”

“Nagi this, Nagi that,” Kazumi interrupts, and Reo realizes with no small sense of surprise that it’s the first time he’s heard her speak with such vitriol at all. “Give it a rest, Reo.”

Reo’s eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s been two months. Not even—what was it? One month, two weeks, and…?”

“Five days,” Nagi finishes quietly for her, and Reo clenches his teeth.

“And five days,” Kazumi says. “Have you gone a single one of those days without talking about him? Without thinking about him?” When Reo doesn’t answer, Kazumi shakes her head. “You’re so suffocating talking about him, even to me—I don’t know how he could stand you for so long.”

“Kazumi,” Reo tries to interrupt quietly, because he knows this conversation was long overdue, he’s known it for a long time, but he can’t have this conversation here. Here, where everyone can bear witness to Reo’s desperation spilled out and flooding onto the floor, here, where Nagi, most of all, can bear witness to—

“God,” Kazumi mutters. “No wonder he broke up with you.”

Reo stills. Somewhere across the table, a piece of cutlery clatters to the floor.

A few things happen at once. Reo stands up, blood rushing in his ears loud enough to block out most other noise—even still, he can hear the screech of another chair being pushed back, a voice that sounds like Bachira, maybe, distantly saying “Nagi, wait,” but really, all Reo hears is his own treacherous heartbeat steadily climbing up—

—Reo needs to leave.

Without a second glance behind him, Reo leaves.

It’s an October morning that starts like any other, and maybe that’s exactly what makes it so terrible in the end.

“Morning,” Reo murmurs sleepily as he turns the corner, brushing his lips against Nagi’s cheek before making his way to the coffee maker on the other side of the counter. He frowns when he sees the pithy amount of coffee grounds remaining, and makes a mental note to buy more the next time he goes shopping. He begins making his morning brew, but he stills when he notices a duffel bag on the couch that he recognizes as Nagi’s. “Are you going somewhere?” he asks lightly. Nagi isn’t the type to take long trips, so Reo isn’t really sure what such a bag is doing on their couch.

Nagi blinks slowly. He hums noncommittally from where he sits by the counter, his eyes fixated on Reo’s hands still on the coffee maker.

“Well?” Reo prods at Nagi’s continued silence, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

“I’m going to Isagi’s for a bit.”

Reo freezes mid-yawn. Any remaining drowsiness has suddenly and terribly been shocked away from him, and so it’s with wild eyes that Reo turns to Nagi.

“You’re going to… what?”

“Go to Isagi’s,” Nagi says again breezily, as if he’s not—as if he’s not—

“You’re moving out?” Reo breathes out. 

Nagi shrugs carelessly in response. “Not forever,” is his mild reply, but Reo can barely hear him over the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. 

“…why?”

Nagi’s expression finally shifts, turning contemplative as he looks away. “I think you know why,” he murmurs, and Reo’s mouth turns dry.

“I don’t,” he says hoarsely. “Seishiro, I thought we were—you never—I didn’t—”

Nagi’s lips pull down in a slight frown. “You don’t know?” He blinks. “Reo, it’s been a pain recently.”

Reo, you’ve been a pain recently, Reo hears.

“A pain?” he hears himself repeat.

Nagi shrugs, blasé as ever. “I think we need a break.”

“A break,” Reo repeats again blankly. He still doesn’t quite understand what the situation is, but when Nagi dips his head in a slight nod at Reo’s words, realization slaps him hard enough to make his head spin. He takes a step back, putting a shaky hand on the nearby cabinet to steady himself.

“I’ve already talked to Isagi,” Nagi continues to say, but Reo, his mind still stuck on Nagi’s previous words, can’t stop himself from interrupting.

“A pain,” Reo blurts out. “You’re breaking up with me because I’m a pain?”

Nagi blinks lazily. “I never said—”

It’s Nagi’s apathy, Reo will realize on later reflection, that ultimately makes Reo snap. It’s the way Nagi calmly delivers the news like he’s giving a weather report, it’s the way Nagi can watch him so impassively as he takes a hammer to Reo’s heart and shatters it, but most of all, it’s the way Nagi looks like he doesn’t care.

It’s Nagi’s apathy, Reo will realize on later reflection, that pushes Reo’s next ugly words out of his throat before he can think about them. It’s all just to garner a reaction—anything, to make that perpetually placid expression on Nagi’s face shift, twist, and crumple in the same way that Reo can feel his own heart shift, twist, and crumple.

The laugh that Reo interrupts Nagi with is half a high-pitched giggle and half a strangled sob. “Really,” he says loudly. “Really, Seishiro, you want to know what the pain actually is? Why this relationship doesn’t work?”

Nagi’s brows furrow slightly at that. But it’s not enough, Reo will realize on later reflection, which is why he keeps going.

“The only pain here is you, Seishiro,” Reo spits out, and he will realize only on later reflection that it’s a twisted and tangled sense of satisfaction that arises when Nagi physically leans back at his words, a flicker of something that passes by too quickly for Reo to identify in his eyes. “Do you know what an insufferable man-child you are? Can you do anything by yourself at all? When’s the last time you did anything for this relationship?”

Wrong, Reo thinks, even as the words leave his mouth. This is wrong.

Was Nagi overly dependent on Reo? The argument could be made, certainly, but Reo liked it. Nagi wouldn’t be Nagi if he wasn’t lazy and indolent but brilliant, and Reo wouldn’t be Reo if he didn’t adore Nagi’s brilliance but also his laziness and indolence. Being able to pull Nagi out of bed in the morning only to feel a harder tug on his own sleeve to send him tumbling into Nagi’s waiting arms, a “five more minutes, Reo,” mumbled into his skin, dangly limbs locking him securely into place—Reo lived for such mundane moments with his favorite person. To call it all a pain—

Well. Nagi had done it first, hadn’t he?

“So,” Nagi says after a long pause of silence broken only by Reo’s shallow breathing. “We’re breaking up, then?”

Reo swallows. “Yeah,” he rasps out. “I guess we are.”

Yell at me, Reo thinks desperately with his fingers pressed tightly against his palms. Tell me I matter enough to you to fight for me. Tell me I matter enough to you to fight with me.

Nagi doesn’t yell at him. Nagi doesn’t even look at him.

Instead, he stands up wordlessly from the counter, turning to pick up his bag from where it had been thrown on the couch. Without a word or a final glance in Reo’s direction, he leaves the apartment. The door’s final click resonates like a gunshot inside Reo’s head.

When he opens his hand, he finds bright red crescents dug into the palm of his hand.

Reo doesn’t make it very far.

He could have made it farther than Bachira’s front yard, he thinks, but his legs nearly give out from underneath him at the very thought. He shouldn’t be fatigued, not after spending the entirety of the previous day sheltered in his room alone, but even still, he’s forced to use a nearby column to steady himself.

He’s not surprised when he hears footsteps behind him. He doesn’t turn around.

“Reo.”

His hand twitches. He still doesn’t turn around.

“Reo,” he hears Nagi repeat. “I was talking to Bachira earlier today. Before the party.” At Reo’s silence, he continues. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

“Have,” Reo corrects. “I have a girlfriend.” He decides not to mention that he’s not too sure if he can say the same after tonight.

Nagi’s silent for a beat before he responds. “I didn’t know you have a girlfriend, then.”

“What’s it to you?”

Nagi doesn’t answer him. “Bachira also said that you told him I broke up with you,” he continues instead. “Just now, your…” Nagi trails off. “Your girlfriend. She said the same. That it was… no wonder I had broken up with you.”

Reo can’t quite hide his flinch at the words thrown at his face yet again.

“What,” he laughs, “have you come to tell me that she’s right?” He finally turns to face Nagi, spreading his hands in front of him. “Was that it? I was too clingy? I was too nagging? I was too much?”

Reo can’t believe that Nagi has the gall to look frustrated with Reo. “No,” he starts, but then he shakes his head. “Reo. Why did you tell them that?”

Reo stares blankly at him. “Tell them what?”

“That I broke up with you.”

“…because you did?” Reo answers incredulously. 

Nagi’s eyes narrow in confusion. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I didn’t,” Nagi insists, and Reo throws his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“I think I’d know when I’m getting broken up with,” Reo bites out. “You—you said it. ‘We’re breaking up, then?’” he mimics in Nagi’s flat tone.

The corners of Nagi’s mouth turns down in a slight frown. “You said it first, though. You broke up with me.”

Reo stares at him like he’s grown a second head. “I broke up with you?” he repeats incredulously. “What are you—”

“I was talking about something else, and then you just started talking about breaking up,” Nagi interrupts, and again, Reo is stunned to hear what almost feels like frustration bleeding into his tone. Reo shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “No, that’s not—you were moving out. You called me a pain, you said you needed a break, you were—you were breaking up with me.”

Nagi’s frown deepens. “I wasn’t breaking up with you,” he repeats flatly and at that, Reo has to laugh, because surely, surely, Reo hadn’t misunderstood the situation to that extent—

“Then what the hell were you doing, Nagi?”

Nagi looks annoyed that Reo’s asking such a question at all, but with a sigh, he answers.

“You needed me to move out. So I moved out,” is his simple answer, and Reo can’t help but gawk.

“I needed you to…” He trails off. “What?”

“Reo,” Nagi says with a frown. “Don’t you remember how stressed you were?”

Reo stares at him blankly. Since when did the conversation switch to a discussion of his work habits?

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Nagi looks at him like he’s completely and utterly dense in the head. Reo’s beginning to think he might actually be just that, based solely on the expression on Nagi’s face.

“You were doing terrible, Reo,” Nagi says bluntly, and Reo leans back in surprise at the words. “You weren’t sleeping, you weren’t eating, you weren’t talking to anyone, not even to me.”

“I…” Reo trails off. “It… wasn’t that bad…”

“We kept running out of coffee grounds because you were using so many of them to keep yourself awake.”

Well, that Reo remembers. As he tries to recall that time again, he realizes there’s more truth to the rest of Nagi’s words than he’d first noticed. It had been just prior to their breakup that Reo was faced with a sudden and unexpected influx of paperwork from his managerial position at his father’s company, and with little to no free time at his office, Reo had been forced to spend more than a little time back in their apartment poring over various lines of data. To say it was a frazzling time for Reo would be an understatement, but even still, he couldn’t understand what exactly about the period of time would compel Nagi to think it would be helpful—no, necessary—to leave their apartment entirely.

“So I was stressed,” Reo concedes. “And that was enough of an excuse for you to leave me entirely? Was it that easy for you, Nagi?” He shakes his head. “Honestly, how would leaving the apartment be helpful for me?”

Nagi’s expression darkens. “Easy?” he repeats quietly, and Reo feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the tone of his voice. “Reo, do you seriously still think I wanted to break up with you?”

“Yes?” Reo shoots back incredulously. “Nagi, how could it be anything else? You—”

“Reo.”

Reo’s mouth snaps shut. 

“I did not break up with you,” Nagi says slowly, and although his voice is level, Reo is so stunned by the near-glower on Nagi’s face that he can barely process Reo’s words. “You were stressed. You weren’t sleeping, weren’t eating, weren’t yourself at all. I wanted to help. You weren’t letting me. I didn’t know what to do, but then I overheard you on the phone with a coworker. You told them that you—” Here, Nagi’s voice falters. He looks away. “You told them that you loved me, but it was making you feel terrible that you couldn’t take care of me properly because of all your work.”

Reo’s mouth turns dry. He remembers that conversation—but he hadn’t expected Nagi to be listening in.

“That was when I realized,” Nagi continues, “that I was making it worse by being there. By being an… insufferable man child.”

Reo flinches at his own careless words thrown back at him. “No, I—” he starts to say, but Nagi’s not finished.

“I was only going to move out for a while. A week, at most.”

Reo swallows around the lump rising in his throat. “But you…” He trails off. He clears his throat before trying again. “Nagi,” he says miserably. “You didn’t tell me any of this.”

Nagi narrows his eyes. “You broke up with me before I could.”

…he had, hadn’t he?

“Oh,” Reo says pathetically after a long stretch of silence. “I…” He trails off. “But you… didn’t say anything. When I said that. You didn’t fight back. You just… accepted it. Doesn’t that mean you were fine with breaking up?”

“I didn’t want to,” Nagi says, his brows furrowed. “Of course I want to be yours,” he says easily, so easily it makes Reo take a step back in shock, “but more than that, I want you to be happy. Clearly, being with me wasn’t making you happy.”

“Why would you say that?” Reo asks quietly.

Nagi stares at him. “You said our relationship doesn’t work.”

Reo swallows. “I,” he starts, but then falls silent.

When the silence stretches out too long, Nagi shrugs. “Well, I just wanted to ask why you were telling everyone that I broke up with you. I guess I’ll see you later, Reo.” He begins to turn, but pauses halfway. “Ah. Also… I might not have any right to say this anymore, but you should break up with your girlfriend. I don’t think she likes you very much.”

Reo finally snaps out of his dazed stupor at Nagi’s words.

“She doesn’t like me very much because I’m still in love with you,” he blurts out loudly. Nagi turns back to him, his eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“…Reo?”

“She doesn’t like me very much because I’m still in love with you,” Reo repeats breathlessly. “Nagi, I—I never stopped.”

Nagi looks skeptical. “You broke up with me,” he reminds Reo, and Reo winces.

“It was an accident…?” Reo tries, and at Nagi’s unimpressed stare, his shoulders drop. “I panicked. I thought you were breaking up with me, and I… I was scared.”

“I promised we’d be together forever,” Nagi murmurs. “Why would you think I’d break that promise?”

Reo takes a careful step forward and takes Nagi’s hands into his own. When he’s met with no resistance, he takes a step further and tangles their fingers together. They slot together perfectly, like they always have.

“I don’t know,” Reo admits honestly. “I was being stupid. Even the thought of losing you…” He squeezes Nagi’s hands once. “It was terrifying.”

“You can’t lose me,” Nagi says simply. “I promised you my forever.”

Reo laughs at that, a breathless sound of relief. “You did, didn’t you?” He leans forward to bump his forehead against Nagi’s. “I didn’t mean any of it,” he murmurs quietly. “I’m sorry. I was scared, I was hurt, I… still, I shouldn’t have lashed out.” He moves his hands to cup Nagi’s cheeks. “How can I make it up to you?” 

“Hm,” Nagi hums. “Reo, how about we get married?”

Reo chokes on air. “Nagi, what—”

Nagi shakes his head slightly. “Not Nagi. I’ll take your name. Seishiro Mikage has a nice ring to it, right?”

Reo’s eyes widen, and he feels his face start to burn up with an embarrassed flush. “No—what—you can’t just—” he splutters, even as he turns the name Seishiro Mikage in his mind and finds that actually, it does sound quite nice. He shakes his head. “Nagi—Seishiro,” he corrects, and he can’t help but feel a slight thrill at being able to use his first name again without having it taste like poison in his mouth. “We’re not getting married, Seishiro.” At Nagi’s doleful gaze, Reo feels the need to amend his statement. “We’re not getting married yet, I mean. We’re still broken up technically, I still have a girlfriend and—”

As if on cue, Reo’s phone buzzes. He reluctantly takes one of his hands off of Nagi’s face to check his phone, and when he reads the new messages, his eyes widen, and he lets out a surprised laugh.

“Kazumi broke up with me,” Reo says, and if the grin stretching across his face is any indication, he thinks he must be the most delighted person in the world after a breakup. “She’s already moved out, too.” He glances from his phone back to Nagi. “You want to… move back in?” he asks awkwardly, and Nagi responds by taking Reo’s free hand and moving it back to his face.

“And then we’ll get married.”

Reo grins awkwardly as his face threatens to burst into flames. “We’ll… talk about that,” he mumbles out, even as his heartbeat sounds out a yes, yes, yes.

“I’m coming home, Reo,” Nagi murmurs, and Reo smiles.

“Yeah,” Reo murmurs back before leaning up to capture Nagi’s lips with his own. “Welcome home, Seishiro.”