Work Text:
Here Hajime was, hunched over his desk scribbling on a piece of college-ruled paper. The ballpoint pen in his hand glided between the thin lines with a smoothness that he much preferred over pencils, and he never seemed to have many issues with misspelling words anyway. He kept writing mindlessly, letting the words flow out of him like water in a steady stream. By the time he reached the end of the paper, he looked over the words carefully.
“...No, this one’s shit,” he sighed, crumpling the paper and tossing it in his mesh trash bin next to his desk. Hajime groaned, sprawling his arms out over his desk and dramatically slamming his head down onto them. Why did he even keep writing poetry anyway? Nothing he wrote was ever good enough, even if he didn’t plan on showing it to anyone. At this point he should drop the hobby altogether…
“Hinata? Are you in?” A soft knock interrupted Hajime’s self-loathing. He recognized both the gentle voice and polite knocking pattern as Nagito, one of his best friends at the moment.
“Yeah, door’s unlocked. Let yourself in,” Hajime grumbled, still slightly frustrated with his self-assumed lack of poetic talent. Nagito entered the room with a smile, carrying a small plastic bag.
“I picked up some mochi for you! I have other snacks as well, if you’d like them.” Nagito placed the bag onto Hajime’s desk, delighting in the way Hajime eyed the bag with sparkling eyes. As Hajime was fishing for one of the mochi snacks, Nagito eyed the mountain of paper balls in Hajime’s small trash bin. He reached down to pick up a paper wad at the top of the bin.
“You shouldn’t throw out this much paper, Hinata. At least recycle it,” Nagito scolded light-heartedly. Hajime panicked slightly when he noticed Nagito unraveling the paper ball. “What is this, anyway—”
“ It’s nothing— ” Before Hajime could snatch the paper from his hands, Nagito began circling the room as he read the scribbled words. Hajime buried his head in his arms, ears flushing a dark pink. Nagito was surely going to make fun of him, especially since he was such a big fan of classic poetry. God, this was so embarrassing…
“...Did you write this, Hinata?” Nagito spoke carefully, stopping in his tracks and turning towards his friend. Hajime responded with a quiet ‘maybe’. Nagito scanned over the lines once more, absorbing every word and syllable.
I like my love as warm summer days,
Kisses like soft clouds, with cool winds of praise.
I’d cherish the bright sun and ocean breeze
And hold you tightly through the harsh winter freeze.
Promise you’ll stay through the month of November,
I swear I’ll give you something to remember.
Spring blossoms we’ll be, so young and naive;
Please care for my soul, and help me believe.
I like my love as warm summer days,
So love me in all your interesting ways.
Nagito held the paper close to him, smiling at Hajime with a sense of awe and adoration. He placed the crinkled paper back onto Hajime’s desk, rubbing soft circles into Hajime’s shoulder.
“Frankly, I think it’s lovely,” Nagito praised. Hajime lifted his head up, face still dusted in a light pink blush.
“Really? You like it?” Hajime’s olive eyes stared at him cautiously, expecting this to be some kind of joke. Nagito hummed in affirmation, moving his hand to rest over Hajime’s nape.
“We should share poetry sometime,” Nagito suggested. Hajime smiled as bright as the sunrise, overjoyed to learn that Nagito wrote his own poetry as well. He grabbed a notebook from his desk’s drawer as well as a box of mochi from the plastic bag, instructing Nagito to move to sit on his bed with him so they could write together. Nagito beamed, grabbing his own pen and following Hajime across the room.
Maybe they could be each other’s muses.