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As head of Ouran High School’s Host Club, Yoichi Isagi has only one rule - don’t fall in love.
Normally, it’s a simple enough endeavour. After all, a significant majority of the Host Club’s visitors are women, and despite the flirtatious aura he settles around himself, Yoichi is very inclined to swing the other way. Judging by the swooning reactions of the daughters of the ultra-rich he spends his hours wooing, he’s an excellent actor, so it’s never much of an issue - if anything, it’s a benefit, allowing him to flit from girl to girl with little attachment or difficulty.
However, life gets a lot harder for Yoichi with the entrance of the new batch of first-years. Inducted as the new Prince of the Host Club, it’s his role to preside over the club’s activities and ensure that everything is going smoothly (a role which his upperclassman, Sae Itoshi, staunchly refused and passed down to Yoichi with startlingly little guilt). Unfortunately, life always has a roadblock for Yoichi’s peace, given in the form of their new first-year hosts, Chigiri and Kunigami, informing him that football team activities have been moved to the large green directly beneath the Host Club’s window.
Kunigami had tiredly explained that the new school year had led to a sharp increase in the football club’s popularity, meaning that it had to be moved to a different pitch to facilitate the larger group. Within that explanation, he had also described the unsettling tendency for footballs to go flying through second-storey windows as a result of careless high-kicks to impress the girls. This posed a distinct problem for Yoichi - most girls dislike shattered windows in the room where they come to forget their worries. As such, he quickly gets Reo to arrange a meeting with the football team captain and the school’s architectural board to discuss the placement of safety nets around the pitch to preserve the existence of the Host Club window.
It’s here where Yoichi’s problems really start, because as captain Oliver Aiku reassures him that he’ll definitely make sure that his players are careful where they do their aerial shots, the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen strolls onto the pitch as if he owns the place. Every single part of this boy is striking - his hair is windswept, startlingly green, and long under-lashes draw bold lines to his seawater eyes. The football team’s compressive clothing leaves very little to the imagination when it comes to muscles, and Yoichi can’t help but notice that this guy is seriously sculpted. He saunters to the track lines, resolutely ignoring the greetings called out to him by his clubmates, and drops into a lunge so deep Yoichi can feel his own thighs burning.
As head of Ouran High School’s Host Club, Yoichi Isagi has only one rule - don’t fall in love. Despite everything, he may have already broken it.
The rest of the meeting with Aiku goes by in a blur. He thinks he agrees to help set up a few storeys of rope mesh around the pitch, a task he’ll probably end up coercing Kunigami into giving him a hand with. He hardly remembers walking to his first period class or taking the flask of coffee Reo gave him, and when he reads the notes he took later on, he realises that he absorbed absolutely zero information and probably has to get the homework off a classmate.
At least five separate people in the Host Club at lunch point out how distracted he is - one girl offers to feed him his lunch so he can “continue thinking! You look so handsome when you have something on your mind, Yoichi…”, to which he had politely declined with an awkward laugh and tried his best to refocus on the group of girls hanging onto his arm. Even Sae had expressed concern, offering him a glass of water and telling him that he’d handle club activities for the day if Yoichi needed a moment away.
He couldn’t get that boy from the football club out of his head.
This was bad. This was very, very bad, because as good of an actor as Yoichi is, he cannot let a boy distract him from his work in the Host Club. His entire reputation centres around being infallible, untouchable. He is Ouran High School’s far-off prince - he cannot allow falling in love to drag him away from his club, his responsibility. Ultimately, it would be best if he simply cleared his mind of anything football - set up that mesh with Aiku and then never pay any mind to the football club ever again. It would be best if he just forgot the seawater eyes that he feels have been burning holes in his back for the past day.
He texts his best friend, who just so happens to be a first-year, Meguru Bachira, that same night.
Yoichi sets his phone on his nightstand, letting out a weary sigh. If he’s completely honest, the absolute last thing that he wants to do about any of this is talk to Sae, but Meguru is right in that he’s the best course of action if he ever wants to actually talk to Rin. He stretches out in bed, wiggling his toes in the sheets. Alternate options just seem ridiculous - he could ask Chigiri and Kunigami if either of them are in the same class as him, but what if they aren’t? He could feign another issue with the football club to try and encourage conversation, but that’d more than likely just get on Aiku’s nerves and get him booted off the pitch faster than he could say ‘I think your striker is hot’. Closing his eyes and rolling over, Yoichi resolves to casually and nonchalantly ask Sae about his brother in the morning before tugging the blankets up to his neck and curling up.
That night, he ends up getting very little sleep. He floats through morning club activities, jumping about a metre into the air when all one-hundred and eighty-five centimetres of Ryuusei Shidou land on his back as he’s pouring a cup of coffee in the club room and only half paying attention to the finances that Reo rattles off to him as he tucks the base of a plastic palm tree into a curtain for the tropical paradise theme they’re working with today.
“You look like a corpse, man, what the hell’s wrong with you?” asks Reo eventually after catching him staring out the window facing the pitch for the millionth time.
“Didn’t sleep well last night,” clarifies Yoichi, fishing the tips of his bangs out of his coffee cup that he keeps holding too close to his nose. “Thinking too hard about… something.”
Reo pauses briefly, scrutinising Yoichi. “Spill it. Who’s the guy?”
Yoichi chokes on his coffee, setting it down on a nearby table to thump himself in the chest. “What do you mean, who’s the guy?! There’s no guy, Reo, you know I don’t date.”
“You’re not convincing anybody, dude. You’re just about as straight as I was last week. Who’s the guy?”
Sighing deeply, Yoichi sinks his face into his palm. “Sae’s little brother. Probably.”
A brief, pregnant silence hangs in the air, and then Reo bursts into loud, uncontrollable laughter, doubling over and clutching his knees. “Holy shit, Isagi, Rin Itoshi, really? You sure know how to pick ‘em, man, apparently he’s a massive asshole.”
Just as Yoichi decides that his morning couldn’t get any worse, the universe chooses to throw him the middle finger in the form of Sae himself wandering over, one eyebrow piqued. “What’s this about my kid brother?”
Between laughs, Reo draws himself back up into an upright position. “The thing that Isagi’s got his panties in a bunch about - he’s got the hots for your brother, man, holy shit, this is too good.”
Sae turns to Yoichi, who at this point is most likely beet red, narrowing his eyes. “How do you know Rin?” he asks, carefully.
“I don’t know him, per se,” fumbles Yoichi. “I just saw him while I was down at the football pitch yesterday and thought he was really good-looking - it was nothing more than that, really.”
“Dude, you know I don’t care, right?” says Sae, snorting. “You two are almost adults, do what you want. I do have a bit of responsibility to both of you to make sure that you’re not fooling around with weirdos, though. Reo’s right, Rin can be an asshole when he wants to be, which, to be honest, is most of the time.”
“How can I talk to him, though?” groans Yoichi, picking his coffee back up.
“He’s not a big fan of the hosting thing,” comments Sae, sitting on the table where Yoichi’s coffee used to be. “If you want to talk to him, it’ll have to be out of that context.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Reo snickers. “If I had to spend the last two-and-a-bit years watching my older brother get praised to high heaven for flirting with half the girls in the school, I’d be pretty sick of the Host Club too.”
“Oi,” Sae says, cuffing Reo about the head. “I’m still your upperclassman, idiot. Respect and all that.”
Reo just laughs, making back over to the window. The football team is already out training, and a light buzz from their chatter floats up to the club room. Yoichi goes to stand by his classmate’s side, sitting himself on the cushioned sill. Wordlessly, but grinning knowingly, Kunigami walks over and hands him a handful of vine-like curtain drapes, leaving as quickly as he came to return to his conversation with Chigiri.
The field below is a hub of movement, a centre of laughter, shouting and noise as players pass balls between one another. They run drills in small groups, and Yoichi can’t help but admit to himself that he’s looking for one athlete in particular. Logically, he knows that indulging himself in this isn’t smart. He’s the Host Club’s Prince, and the last thing he needs is for his head to be filled with stupid, mushy thoughts of another boy while he’s trying to whisk the visiting girls into paradise. How is he supposed to look a girl in her eyes and act out a convincing fake romance when all he can picture is waves of deep green hair?
He finally spots Rin as he’s absentmindedly hanging Kunigami’s vines from the curtain rail. Reo and Sae had wandered off a few minutes earlier after persistent harassment from Chigiri that they were doing nothing to help out, culminating in a twine chair being tossed at them which ended up being far too close to hitting the window for Yoichi’s liking. Rin stands in front of a pair of goals, one facing the other, a basket of footballs to his left. He holds an identical one at arm’s length in front of him, considering it. Yoichi watches with bated breath, event preparation long forgotten, heart pounding for a reason he can’t quite place.
Rin squares his shoulders, dropping his hips down into a half-squat, pushing one leg out behind him and bracing on it. A faceless clubmate scoops a ball out from Rin’s basket and throws it to him just as the striker draws his leg outwards in a lengthy arc and kicks the football in his hands upwards. It carves a breathtakingly perfect parabola in the air, so beautiful that Yoichi can almost see the path it traces in the air molecules it displaces. Before he can even look down to see Rin’s next move, a second football joins it, mirroring its brother exactly, scooping the same tidal-wave path through the air in a perfect reflection. They meet in the middle, bouncing off each other in an explosive crash-collision, before smashing into their respective goals so hard that the net is violently drawn backwards from the force. It’s only then that Rin turns, looking directly up at Music Room 3 with a self-satisfied smirk.
Oh, fuck.
Rin’s elegance. His grace. That fucking grin. Yoichi is so screwed - his eyes… his heart… he’s completely smitten.
He’s not expecting an opportunity to talk to Rin to come so soon. He’s not expecting to have an opportunity to talk to Rin at all.
Yoichi spends his breaks staring out the classroom’s window at the football pitch. He’d spent about two hours last week on the pitch itself knotting rope mesh into the seven metal poles the architecture team had brought in for the window protection that he asked for. He’d nearly toppled off once catching sight of Rin - normally the pitches were abandoned at lunchtime, and Aiku had apparently instructed his team to keep off the pitch that particular period, but Rin had markedly ignored that and attempted to practise anyway. Aiku had obviously kicked him off, citing security reasons, so he’d shot an annoyed look at Kunigami, who was giving Yoichi a leg up, as well as at Yoichi himself. The only reason that Yoichi didn’t fall straight off the pole out of embarrassment was Kunigami, who’d managed to stabilise him by the foot, earning him a fair bit of chastising - from his underclassman, no less.
Safe to say, in Yoichi’s mind, any interaction with Rin is a far-off bastion, a dream for a bolder, less-stupid version of himself to nurture and grow. However, the world hand-delivers him an opportunity, in the form of a hosting theme that the entire club has spent the last month or two procrastinating, and his wonderful upperclassman, Sae Itoshi, who sends their group chat a message obscenely late at night:
As a result, Yoichi ends up in front of the towering Itoshi mansion on the outskirts of Bunkyo, navigating through what feels like a maze of hedges the same height as him. Everyone at Ouran High School is at least some degree of ultra-rich, the Isagi family included, but it seems like the Itoshi family is a level of ultra-rich above Yoichi, because not once has he ever thought about an outdoors entryway lined with immaculately-kept hedge art. He finds the door eventually, at least three metres high, and made of what looks like old, high quality varnished kiso-hinoki wood. He’s greeted by a butler, who opens the door with a polite smile and then goes to retrieve Sae, leaving Yoichi to swap out his shoes for slippers and stow them on the shoe rack.
Surprisingly enough, the genkan looks lived-in. Your typical mansion is utterly devoid of all indications of life, haunted by a shadow of a family torn apart by wealth and time. Yoichi feels like his own home looks like that sometimes - four walls, a ceiling, pillars and wooden staircases, painted in soulless landlord white. Part of why Yoichi became a host was to see the beauty in life - decorating the clubroom every week, drinking new tea with new people every break, helping his fellow hosts garden in the plot downstairs - it all allows him to break away from those four walls, to experience a life with love and vibrancy.
The Itoshi genkan feels alive - there are paintings on the walls, both professional and amateur. Childish finger paintings sit in the same priority as priceless artworks, framed and displayed on the wall in glowing praise. Beside a statue almost Yoichi’s size sits photographs of who he presumes to be Sae and Rin, matching footballs at their feet and arms slung around each other, huge grins on their faces.
“I used to play football too, when I was in middle school,” says Sae, coming out of nowhere behind him. Yoichi looks over at him, eyes wide. Shidou hangs off his shoulder, strangely quiet. “I was better than Rin then. He’s way above my level now, though. The kid’s crazy.”
“Yeah,” breathes Yoichi, recalling those twin parabolas.
“Anyway, I decorated around here a while back. I got sick of feeling like I was walking into a hospital room every time I came home - looked tepid as hell - so now Rin has to deal with everyone that comes in seeing his baby pictures,” Sae snorts.
“It looks great,” smiles Yoichi, turning around fully. “Looks like people actually live here, dude. You don’t see that often when it comes to our type.”
“You can say that again!” giggles Shidou, finally coming to life after an uncharacteristic period of silence on Sae’s arm. He jumps towards Yoichi, arms extended for a hug, which he awkwardly accepts. Shidou is naturally very touchy, meaning that Yoichi is constantly subject to bouncing hugs (that sometimes can’t even really be called hugs with the way they seem more like bodyslams) from which he is only sometimes saved by Sae yanking him back by his collar.
“Come with me to the kitchen,” beckons Sae. “Ryuusei thinks I need to add salt to this, but I’m not a hundred-percent sure and I want some more opinions. I’ll get the others to try when they turn up as well.”
The three of them walk through endless winding halls, each wide corridor blending into the next. Shidou chatters the whole time, talking about the dishes Sae is making, how he ought to be more confident in his talents - really, all he’s doing is complimenting Sae, but Yoichi is all too used to third-wheeling the pair of them after spending the last year shadowing the older Itoshi for hosting tips, so he manages to move past it.
The kitchen smells rich, like expensive spice and a warm meal, and as Sae pours him a glass of water, Yoichi goes to investigate the myriad pots and pans simmering on the stove.
“You left these unattended?” he giggles, gently tossing a stir fry that’s probably been sitting in the same position for far too long. Sae doesn’t deign to give him a response, just rolling his eyes and passing over the water.
“Just try it, tepid,” he grumps, so Yoichi does, picking up an unused set of chopsticks on the counter and placing a healthy serving of thinly sliced chicken, bok choy and green pepper in his mouth. He hums around it, thinking - he’s right in that it’s missing something, a hint of tang to cut through the thick warmth of the sauce.
“Try lemon juice? Just a little bit,” he suggests. “Or salt. Salt could work.”
“Very different ingredients,” laughs Sae, picking up two bowls and spooning some stir fry into each. He adds lemon juice to one and a pinch of salt to the other, and then the three of them dig in.
“Definitely lemon juice!” exclaims Shidou around his too-full mouth. Sae nods in agreement, squeezing the other half of a lemon into the main pan and tossing it around. “Yo, Isagi, you cook or something? How’d you know that’d work?”
“I mess around in the kitchen in my free time,” Yoichi awkwardly admits, taking another bite. “Can’t rely on kitchen staff forever, I reckon.”
Shidou laughs and gets halfway through a response before a low, dry voice cuts through the buzz of frying food and warm chatter. “Oi, lukewarm. You really ditched your friends at the door? For a host, you’re pretty shit at your job.”
Yoichi whips his head around so fast he gets dizzy for a moment, and ends up meeting the cool, seawater eyes of the boy he’s spent the last week fantasising about. Rin Itoshi stands at the door, hips tilted forwards, flanked by Chigiri and Kunigami, the former of whom is smirking knowingly in Yoichi’s direction. Sae hardly looks away from the okonomiyaki he’s flipping, just waves nonchalantly in the group’s direction. How Chigiri even knows about Yoichi’s… infatuation with Rin is lost on him, because he’s at least mostly sure that he’s never once outwardly communicated it to anyone but Reo that first morning. That little gossip. Rin stands at least a few inches taller than Yoichi - his eyes would probably be at Rin’s shoulder level if they both stood to their full height. His gaze sweeps the room, eyes narrowing when it lands on Shidou and widening slightly when he takes notice of Yoichi, who does his absolute best not to cower under the attention.
“You’re the one my asshole brother passed his responsibilities off to,” says Rin shortly. It isn’t a question, and Yoichi and Kunigami cringe in sync.
“It’s alright,” Yoichi clarifies hastily, unable to look Rin in the eye. “Really, I don’t mind the work - I prefer having things to do! It’s not all that bad, either - I’m just learning skills for next year, really.”
“Hm,” responds Rin inexpressibly. “As long as you’re not overworked, or I’ll be pissed. I really don’t care that much.”
“A real charmer, you are,” jokes Chigiri, shoulder-checking Rin. “Rensuke and I are in this guy’s class. Thanks for walking us in, Rinrin.”
“Don’t call me that.” Rin narrows his eyes at Chigiri, who grins and darts behind Kunigami, who seems used to their antics, if his utter lack of reaction to his long-haired classmate practically jumping on his back is any indication.
Sae sighs. “Thank you for bringing them in, Rin. Food will be ready in a bit - are you eating with us?”
Rin releases a non-committal hum, brushing past Kunigami to get to, presumably, the sink. A trailing hand grazes Yoichi’s hip as he walks past, which seemingly goes unnoticed by its owner. The spot burns, ripping a blazing fire through his clothes. Rin pays him absolutely no mind - it’s as if he doesn’t even see Yoichi. One sentence his way before he retreats into irrelevance.
The sink runs as Rin washes his hands, and Shidou drags the first-years over to the stove to try Sae’s food, and Yoichi’s world is seared through with sea-green Molotov cocktails. Human contact has never felt like this before - he’s held plenty of girls’ hands, taken them up by the chin and tilted their heads upwards to angle against his, and not once has it ever burnt through him to his very core like this. A brief touch and Yoichi feels like he’s on fire, drowning in cold eyes and colder hands.
He’s being dramatic. Time drips by like cornstarch slurry. He tries the four dish samples passed to him, gives vague advice, and lets his mind wander.
Reo appears from nowhere, jolting Yoichi out of whatever trance his brain dragged him into. “Dude, you haven’t even said hi to me yet. Where’s your head at?” He knocks a fist against Yoichi’s forehead, popping a piece of karaage into his mouth with his free hand.
“Hi, Reo,” Yoichi sighs wearily. “Please lobotomise me later?”
“Sure thing. Same issue? Code parabola?” asks Reo, not as cryptically as he probably thinks.
“What the fuck is code parabola,” deadpans Rin from his seat at the kitchen island - when did he get there?
“Nothing you need to know about, Rinrin,” trills Shidou, leaning bodily over the marble tabletops into Rin’s space.
Reo looks at them, then back at Yoichi, and then piques an eyebrow. Resigning himself to his fate, Yoichi nods. “He’s right, though. Code parabola is an awful name.”
“Wow,” Reo comments with a pout. “Remind me to never protect your privacy on the fly with a fun codename ever again.”
“Thanks, buddy,” says Yoichi, if just to appease him. Reo sniffs huffily, turning his nose up and walking over to Chigiri, who begins enthusiastically discussing the bamboo shoot he’s just eaten.
“Lukewarm,” calls out a voice, just as dry as the last time he said the word. Yoichi turns to Rin, blinking. He points at his own chest, raising an eyebrow in question and praying that his face hasn’t gone red. Rin raises one in return, significantly more judgemental, and beckons him over with a single flick of the wrist. He sidles through the row of people crowded in the space between the stove and the kitchen island, trying not to disturb Sae’s cooking, but Chigiri elbows him in the side jokingly as he walks past, earning him a kick in the shin that Yoichi doesn’t regret in the slightest.
“What’s up, Rin?” he asks once he makes it to his side.
“My shitty brother keeps taking your advice, and it’s working - his food actually tastes good for once and not fucking tepid. What are you even telling him?”
“Oh, is that all?” Yoichi lets his shoulders relax, laughing with the motion. “I just figured out what was missing, and told him to add it. Not like you guys are wanting for anything with the huge pantry you have, right?”
“Right,” says Rin, frowning to himself. “Why is he listening to you?”
“I dunno, he trusts my judgement? Ask him that, I’m not in his head.”
“Right,” Rin repeats, frowning deeper. Before Yoichi can manage to question his response, Sae asks him to bring him some plates so they can actually eat a meal, and Rin takes a swig of his protein smoothie and pointedly ignores him, so he abandons the budding flower of conversation and goes to dig through the plethora of cabinets in the Itoshi kitchen.
Overall, he leaves the Itoshi household contentedly full, but utterly confused. The two very brief exchanges he had with Rin left him sincerely lost for words, for both the attitude Rin gave him while they talked and his brother’s reaction after the fact. As he was seeing them off at the door, Sae had taken Yoichi aside and asked him why Rin was being so nice to him - a comment which he’d immediately and vehemently protested until the older Itoshi told him how Rin normally couldn’t give less of a fuck about talking to anyone and that if he didn’t explicitly like a person, he wouldn’t talk to them at all, let alone initiate a conversation.
So, all in all, Yoichi was very, very lost. Somehow, fumbling for words and answering one of his questions meant that Rin thought his company was at the very least bearable, which was an achievement he’d never managed to make, given he’s typically very put together. What a day.
From that point forward, Yoichi turns into Sae’s errand boy, but somehow only when said errands involve Rin. “Isagi, Rin asked me to bring him the protein powder he forgot at home this morning, but I have a commission in five. Mind taking it to the football field for me?” “Yo, Isagi, mind fetching my house keys from Rin? Forgot them earlier.” “Oi, Isagi, can you go give Rin my old chemistry notes? I said I’d lend them to him.”
When Sae forgets his house keys for the fifth day in a row and needs Yoichi to go retrieve them from Rin, he finally questions his situation, citing Chigiri and Kunigami’s status as underclassmen, but the glare the older Itoshi shoots him is more than enough to shut him up. That places him in his current situation, a thick binder of old Japanese Literature notes tucked under his arm, once again finding his way to classroom 1-C and trying his best not to look like Rin’s stalker. Chigiri is splayed across Kunigami’s lap when he opens the door, the latter of whom at least has the decency to look ashamed. Yoichi averts his eyes, sighing, and walks over to Rin’s desk at the far side of the classroom, quickly checking to make sure no papers have fallen out.
“What the fuck. Are you stalking me?” opens Rin, charmingly.
“More like your brother won’t stop giving me errands to do. Believe me, I’ve got better things to do than cross this estate of a school to get to the first-year hallway, but he doesn’t care,” deadpans Yoichi wearily, setting the binder on Rin’s desk with a thump. “Got some JapLit notes for you. Just quietly, I looked through them and mine are better, so if you want those instead I’m happy to hand them over.”
Rin turns up his nose and huffs, moving to get out of his chair. “Go on then. I’m not using lukewarm notes.”
“Wait, right now?” questions Yoichi, stepping back to give Rin room to stand next to him.
“Yes, right now, you tepid idiot. When else?”
And so becomes their new normal. Yoichi runs Sae’s errands, Rin calls him a stalker with less and less bite each classroom visit, and more often than not one of them finds an excuse to hang around a little longer, whether it be going through notes together, heading down to the football field to check that the rope mesh they installed last month is holding up and then getting distracted kicking a ball around, all sorts. There comes a point where Rin starts actively seeking Yoichi out, coming to his classroom to insist upon getting notes (visits on which Reo delights upon), dragging him by the ear down hallways until he can ask privately for Yoichi to come watch the play he’s been trying to figure out, approaching him anywhere to return notes he’d told him previously he didn’t want back.
It’s suspicious, to say the least, because with every story Yoichi brings back to the Host Club of Rin finding him for something, Sae and Shidou grow progressively more and more shocked. He’s aware that the three of them have known each other since their early days of middle school, having played football together for a long time, so their reactions warrant a fair bit of confusion from the rest of the Host Club. Chigiri and Kunigami, who are more privy to Rin’s attitude than most, take great joy in telling the group about Rin’s behaviour after he returns from their various outings to everywhere and nowhere. According to them, he is consistently less standoffish, more tolerable of their classmates’ excitability, generally going about his day with less asshole-ness, as they called it. The day that Rin returned with an actual smile on his face, Yoichi was almost jumped by Chigiri - he thinks he’s lost a notable portion of his hearing from the way that the long-haired first-year screamed into his ear like they’d just won a life-changing football match.
Dammit, he is spending too much time around Rin. The football analogies are rubbing off on him.
Shidou, in typical Shidou fashion, cracks at least one ‘Rinrin must be pussywhipped’ joke a week, much to Sae’s chagrin, who is more than likely strongly opposed to any viewing of his younger brother as a sexual being. Punches are exchanged that afternoon, in front of the girls no less. It’s fair to say that Yoichi has the time of his life chewing out his upperclassmen for that - this must have been how Kunigami felt after chastising him for almost falling off the metal poles outside.
His everyday tracks as follows - go to school obscenely early, help set up for the day’s theme, wardrobe check the entire club, drink at least three cups of coffee, go to class, run an errand for Sae, get sought out by Rin, get laughed at in the Host Club over lunch after the girls are gone. Go back to class, overthink whatever Rin wanted from him that day, drag himself to club activities, flirt with the girls that commissioned him, climb into bed and stress-call Meguru. Day after day. His call logs with his best friend are rapidly mounting, and he doesn’t think Sae can stare at him with any wider eyes when he tells them about what Rin had done that morning.
Shidou’s jokes do make him think, though. What, exactly, draws Rin to him? Both Sae and Reo had made it abundantly clear that Rin avoided most people and is standoffish to those he does speak to. While he’s not exactly an angel to Yoichi, he’s definitely not rude or an asshole, and with the way he’s gradually grown touchier, accepting the high-fives offered when he hits a shot he’s been attempting or grabbing him by the wrist instead of the earlobe, all evidence points to Rin Itoshi not being repulsed by his very existence. He’s still kind of a dick in his own Rin way, but it’s not like Yoichi minds - calling each other stalkers whenever they find each other in the hallways or go to each other’s classrooms has become a fond habit that he wants to assume neither of them want to let go.
The question bugs him for the next few days, nagging at some loose corner of his mind every time he finds Rin in the hall and makes up some excuse about needing him to look over a piece of English translation (because of course the guy is fluent). It nags at him throughout every study session with Reo and Nagi, especially as he watches the white-haired man tuck himself under Reo’s chin while somehow balancing maths homework on his knee and writing simultaneously. Truly, he tries his best to focus on the second derivative calculus he’s tasked himself with, but it gets really tough when the only thing on his mind is the guy he definitely hasn’t liked for over a month now and the visual he looks up to isn’t much better.
However, with the way their relationship is progressing, Yoichi can’t say he’s too shocked when a message comes in from Rin right before his eerily punctual bedtime of nine at night.
That night, Yoichi crashes in bed with a fuzzy feeling lodged low in his lungs and a loud, rhythmic pounding in his heart.
Rin at least had the decency to bring along a picnic blanket, which Yoichi is truly grateful for, because he wore his nice pants today, and grass stains on his ass are the last thing he wants. He stretches out on the blanket, wiggling his toes around in his platforms. Shinjuku Gyoen is nice this time of year - no cherry blossoms, so it’s not overcrowded, but the flowers are still pleasantly in full bloom and the grass is a vibrant green that makes Yoichi want to peel off his shoes and socks and sink his feet into the blades. Rin sits higher up on the mat, absent-mindedly chewing at a chunk of konbini karaage. He’d gotten yakiniku sauce with it, something Yoichi had laughed probably too hard at (yakiniku sauce is for barbecue, Rin, you do realise you’re breaking fundamental food rules, right?), and seems to be enjoying himself quite a lot.
Yoichi smiles, relaxing closer into the grass. He looks up at Rin, who’s looking right back down at him with something unintelligible in his eyes. He’s noticed that the closer they become, the more expressive the younger Itoshi gets. He’s elicited at least a few smiles from Rin on multiple occasions, and once, he caught him with a grin so full-bodied it made Yoichi’s heart skip a beat. That smile still comes back to haunt him in his dreams some nights, hovering as an unattainable idol in the sky. Rin is smiling now, softly, affectionately, and Yoichi’s heart darts back and forth as if dodging bullets. He can feel himself reddening, so in an attempt to draw Rin’s eyes away, he reaches up a hand and pokes him in the cheek.
“What’s made you so happy, Smiley McJoyman?” he teases, enjoying the embarrassed flush on Rin’s cheeks.
“Fuck off,” he clips, leaning away to pick up another piece of fried chicken. “Am I not allowed to be happy on a nice day out?”
“Wow,” Yoichi laughs. “Remind me to tell Chigiri about this. I don’t think he thinks you can feel joy.”
In response, Rin shoves his chicken in his mouth, effectively shutting him up. Kneeing him gently in the skull to make his point clear, the younger slides down the picnic blanket to lie at Yoichi’s side, placing his legs right next to his. He tries not to overthink it too much.
“It’s warm,” says Rin, sounding slightly lost, which makes Yoichi turn his head to the right and look at him concernedly.
“Ew. What the fuck. Rin, you’re being weird.”
“No I’m not,” he argues.
“Bullshit!” calls Yoichi, turning onto his side to look at him better. “What, do you have something to say? Spit it out.”
“Ugh, lukewarm bastard,” Rin mutters lowly, drawing a snort from Yoichi. “Ugh, fuck off, don’t laugh at me. I just. Wanted to tell you that I’m having fun. And that I appreciate the time that you spend with me. It makes me happy.”
Yoichi’s brain short-circuits at that, and of course, he decides, in his infinite wisdom, that the best and smartest course of action going forward is to say “You know I like you, right?”
And there is silence. Birds chirp in the background. Families chatter and the reeds bordering the ponds rustle softly in partnership with the gentle gust of wind that blows through the trees surrounding their little picnic sanctuary. And then-
“What,” Rin says shortly.
“I like you,” responds Yoichi, trying not to let his voice wobble. The words taste as natural as breathing, but he chokes trying to get them out. Rin’s gaze is fixed solely on him now, seawater green piercing straight through his soul to look at the fleshy, nervous mass beneath.
“What,” he repeats, blinking at him twice in rapid succession.
“Ugh, I’m not telling you again,” Yoichi spits out, pulling himself into a sitting position. “Ah, fuck, just ignore me. I’m spouting bullshit.” He pokes Rin in the chest, trying to draw out some sort of reaction. “You’re making me sentimental, man, what the he-”
“Say it again,” says Rin, quickly, anxiously, like if he didn’t keep Yoichi talking, he’d slip away forever. A nonsensical conclusion, of course - in Yoichi’s mind, Rin is impossible to ignore. He could never stay away from him for too long.
“I like you?” he says, more of a question than an assertion. It’s then that he notices that Rin’s flushed bright red, down to the tips of his ears. It’s stupidly endearing, watching the way his cheeks colour. Rin seems to pick up on this and covers his face with an arm, which Yoichi instantly pulls away to keep staring at him.
“Stop looking at me like that, dammit,” Rin mumbles, sitting up to match Yoichi. “How long for?”
“Since I first saw you,” he responds honestly. “On the football field. I was negotiating the netting with Aiku and you walked onto the pitch like you fucking owned the place, and all I could think about was how beautiful you were. Are.” The words rush out like a waterfall, and he’s not quite sure he breathes as much as he should’ve, but it’s worth it, because Rin colours a darker red and throws his arm back over his face.
“Lukewarm fucker,” he says weakly.
“Dude, you can’t leave me hanging like that. You gotta respond,” Yoichi hisses, fingering at the sleeves of his jumper nervously.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Rin barks out, but there’s no bite to it. “Of course I like you too, you fucking idiot, have since Sae first told me about you.”
“Oh!” exclaims Yoichi, suddenly realising. “That’s why you looked at me like that at your place that one time!”
“Like what?” snaps Rin. It was probably meant to be harsh, but a voice crack in the middle betrays his nerves, and Yoichi laughs deep in his belly, the noise bubbling up like the carbonated drinks sitting untouched in their grocery bag.
“Like I popped straight out of your brain into your kitchen,” he giggles, shoving his knees into Rin’s thigh. “Your eyes widened like you’d just seen a ghost.”
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Rin mutters, but it’s gentle and soft and everything Yoichi thought Rin would never be. “Sae told me about you my first week. He described you as this incredible underclassman who had spent his entire first year throwing himself fully into everything he undertook.”
“So the opposite of tepid?” Yoichi can’t help but ask, savouring the pout on Rin’s face.
“No shit, Sherlock. I just thought that was, I don’t know, admirable, I guess? And then I kept spotting you randomly, and you looked so good it pissed me off, even in the ugly fucking uniform, and then I realised it wasn’t admiration.”
“And that shot with the two footballs that one morning?” questions Yoichi, waiting with bated breath.
“I knew you were up there,” Rin sighs, blushing. “Wanted to impress you.”
“Aw, Rinrin!” the older trills, his grin growing. “Ah, man, you’re too damn cute. Who knew my favourite underclassman could be so adorable! I thought you hated people - who knew you just wanted me the whole time!”
“Yeah, okay, shut the fuck up. I’m not cute,” hisses Rin.
“Sure thing.”
They continue bickering, the two of them, Yoichi’s body pressed comfortably into Rin’s space. At some point, the younger twists a stray lock of Yoichi’s hair around one of his fingers, and he leans into the touch. Rin’s hands are cold, but it’s alright, because every single part of Yoichi is warm, fuzzy and indulgent. Rin is an all-you-can-eat platter of kintsuba, all sweet and crunchy on the outside, rich and clement in the middle with a gooey centre. Rin is his, now, soft and blushing but still perfectly willing to cuss him out and kick him in the shins when he says something he doesn’t like. The sun pokes its nose further from the clouds, just for them, bearing its loving rays down on their chests, and Yoichi feels as if he could open up his heart and uncover a trove of gold and jewels.