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It’s late at night, when Sae tells Shidou to pick him up. There’s no asking, not that Shidou could have reasonably expected anything resembling a “please” from the midfielder. Only a text with an address and a “pick me up”. It had been done out of impulse. It’s easy to distract himself with soccer. The adrenaline from the game, the feeling of scoring a goal, the frustration of missing a pass. All of it makes him feel alive, like maybe there’s something in this world that is worth this lukewarm existence he leads. But when he’s off the field, alone in his apartment, his thoughts get loud. And the only thing that could possibly be louder comes in the form of an annoying striker with pink highlights. Speaking of which, Sae’s phone has been blowing up with notifications.
Stupid Demon: OMG SAE CHAN FINALLY TEXTED FIRST???
Stupid Demon: WHAT THE HELLY??
Stupid Demon: is this your way of asking me out
Stupid Demon: on a date
Stupid Demon: a romantic date
Stupid Demon: hellooooo pretty boy would u pls text me back
Stupid Demon: u dont have to be nonchalant yk
Stupid Demon: i know u want me ;)
Notifications not worth replying to, clearly. He hears Shidou’s car before he sees it, the engine loud and rumbling. He opens the door to be met with a beat up sedan with a velociraptor bumper sticker on the back, and the passenger window rolled down.
“Looking good, princess!” Sae can hear the grin in Shidou’s voice, and rolls his eyes.
“Don’t call me that, idiot.”
He settles into the passenger seat, and Shidou speeds off. “Got anywhere in mind?”
Sae’s voice is flat. “No. Just keep driving. I don’t care where.”
Shidou must hear something in his voice, because he just hums in acknowledgment, and falls silent for once. They don’t talk as Shidou drives. The city blurs past the windows, flickering orange and yellow from streetlights, music humming low from the radio. The engine roars beneath them, vibrating through Sae’s bones like an artificial heartbeat. He can’t even feel his own. Shidou’s grin is wild in the dim glow of the dashboard, his fingers drumming against the wheel to the rhythm of the song that has just started playing.
After a while, Sae speaks. “You don’t think much, do you?”
Shidou huffs out a laugh, glancing at Sae for a second before looking back at the road. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I think about what’s important. Food. Art. Soccer. Music.” He speeds up, and winks at Sae. “You.”
The midfielder scoffs and turns his head to look out the window, but they both know he doesn’t hate it. Doesn’t hate him, or else he wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t have texted, wouldn’t have chosen him in the first place. Sae sees the city lights shining bright outside, glowing luminescent in the dark of the night. But Shidou– Shidou is vibrant, burning so bright it hurts to look at. And suddenly, Sae can’t look away. He looks like fireworks. He looks so alive. And Sae hates that.
Hates how easy it was for him. Hates how badly he wanted it. How can someone feel so alive, so happy, so passionate about things and life? And why can’t Sae feel the same way? God, he hates it, because the only thing he can do is wait here, stuck wondering what the hell it feels like to want to live.
(If he's honest with himself, he'll admit that he doesn’t hate it. He’s jealous and he knows it, but he can't say it, so the only thing he can be is pissed off.)
Before he can stop himself, Sae reaches over, his fingers curling into the front of Shidou’s shirt, and crashes their mouths together. The car swerves violently, Shidou’s eyes widening in surprise. “What the hell, princess–”
Sae doesn’t answer, instead, climbing over the center console and into his lap. It isn’t pretty. It’s rough, desperate, his lips pressed against Shidou’s, like he’s trying to feel something, anything. Sae kisses him like he’s trying to steal the breath from his lungs, the fire from his veins, the life from his bones, anything to fill the hollow space where his heart should be. His teeth scrapes Shidou’s bottom lip, his fingers tangling in wild pink and blonde hair. Maybe if he tried hard enough, maybe he would understand-
His chin gets grabbed firmly, as Shidou pulls into an empty parking lot one-handed. He parks the car, and his eyes are blazing. “You tryin’ to kill us both?”
The question comes out like a little curse, but his gaze is searching. There’s a fondness there. Sae catches his breath, before he dives in again, biting at Shidou’s jaw, his throat, anywhere he could reach-
Again, his face gets grabbed, a firm pressure from Shidou’s fingers. “Sae.”
He turns his face so that their eyes meet. His voice is low. “What are you doing?”
Sae blinks, breathing slightly heavier. “What, isn’t this what you always wanted?”
Shidou grins sharply, but his eyes are focused. His hand comes up to rest on the small of Sae’s back, the other one on a thigh. “Babe, you know I’d kiss you any day. Hell, I would pay money to kiss you. But not like this. Not when you’re kissing me like it’s the only thing you have left. So. What the hell are you doing, Itoshi?”
And Sae’s breath hitches. Because what is he doing? He doesn’t know. Doesn’t really care, because that numb feeling goes away when he’s kissing Shidou. All he knows is that Shidou is warm and alive and Sae is so cold.
“I don’t know,” he admits, his voice raw and cracked.
Shidou studies him for a long moment, before his thumb brushes against Sae’s bottom lip where it had turned red from biting. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Okay.”
And then he kisses him again, slow and deep, unlike the desperate kisses Sae had chased. His teeth graze Sae’s lip again, before slipping down to his collarbone, nipping at the skin there. “What do you want?”
Sae swallows a gasp, his nails digging into Shidou’s shoulders. His eyes flutter shut. “I don’t– ah– I don’t know what I want.”
Shidou grins against his skin and moves slightly higher, biting just below his jaw. His tongue soothes the skin immediately. “Don’t lie. Why’d you make me pick you up tonight, huh?”
The steering wheel digs into Sae’s back. He glares, intending not to say anything, but his resolve quickly crumbles under Shidou’s sharp mouth, the bites coaxing little noises from him. He isn’t looking at the demon when he finally speaks. “...I wanted to feel something.”
Sae’s fingers tremble from where they’re grabbing Shidou’s shoulders. He doesn’t have the energy anymore to hold back, words coming out in between kisses. “I hate that it’s so easy for you. That you can just exist like this. Fuck, I’m so jealous–”
Shidou felt it before he saw it. The dampness against his cheek. The tremor in the hands fisted in his shirt. Shidou is wild, chaotic, and mean on the field. He’s called the demon for a reason, after all. And he takes way too much enjoyment in kicking little Rinrin in the head. But Itoshi Sae had carved out a little spot for himself in his heart, for better or for worse. Shidou can’t stand the sight in front of him right now, Sae with his palm pressed against his eyes, wiping away a wetness that looks out of place on his face. His lip is trembling, for fucks sake.
“Hey.”
Sae presses his lips against his, a desperate, clumsy thing meant to distract. Meant to silence. But Shidou could taste the salt of tears, feel the shaky breaths in between kisses. His hands come up to catch Sae’s face, forcing space between them. “Look at me.”
Sae very pointedly does not look at him. His mouth curves down in a frown but it’s fragile, like it’s moments away from turning into a sob. “Don’t.”
Shidou swipes a thumb under his eye, catching the moisture there. “What’s this about, huh? Since when do you cry, princess?”
Sae’s breath shudders, his shoulders curling inward like he could protect himself from this awful, horrible, thing called vulnerability. “I’m not crying. I just– fuck–”
His forehead drops against Shidou’s shoulder, his entire frame trembling. He chokes back sobs, a flame of humiliation curling in his chest. How pathetic must he look right now, crying on Shidou’s lap in his stupid velociraptor sedan. A raw, pained, noise escapes his lips, and his hand presses against his mouth to stifle it. Sae feels a heavy arm wrap around his back, one hand cradling the back of his head.
“I’ve got you,” Shidou murmurs, running his fingers through magenta hair. “You’re okay.”
Sae tries to pull himself together, focusing on the scent of Shidou’s orange scented shampoo, but it’s hard. It feels like his chest is being ripped open, the things he never got to say finally spilling out. Is this what it is to feel? If all he feels is pain, wouldn’t it be better to go back to how it was, and not feel at all? Feeling alive hurts. Shit, it hurts like a bitch. Why can’t he just feel happy?
Why does he only feel alive when he’s kicking a ball? How is Shidou so vibrant and explosive all the time? He wonders if he makes Shidou sad. The striker had once told him that it’s sad seeing people who don’t know how to explode the way he does. People who don’t have the passion or drive for life that seemed to come so naturally to him. So how can Shidou see anything but ruin in Sae?
The car is silent. Shidou’s fingers haven’t left Sae’s hair yet.
“Are you happy?”
Shidou’s fingers still, and he glances down at Sae. “What?”
Sae doesn’t look up. “Are you happy?” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.
Shidou pauses, looking at Sae with something he doesn’t recognize. It’s something bordering on pity (but it would never be pity, because this is Shidou he’s talking to). “Yeah,” he said finally. His voice is softer than ever. “I’m happy”.
Sae’s grip tightens slightly, nails digging into Shidou’s side. “How?”
“How what?”
“How are you happy?” Sae’s voice cracks, the words spilling out like he couldn’t stop them. “How do you just wake up and live like it’s easy ?”
Is it something you can teach me? Something I can learn? Or am I too far gone for that?
Shidou is quiet for a beat, his thumb tracing circles against Sae’s hip. “Sorry to break your heart, princess, but it’s not easy. It’s a lot of work. But you’ve just gotta do it, because what else is there?”
His hand comes to rest on Sae’s back, rubbing circles. “The thing is, you have to find it. I’m happy when I win a game. I’m happy when I see my sister and when I get to feed the stray dogs in the street. I’m happy when Chainsaw Man comes out with a new volume. It’s not something big. It’s the little small things, piled up on top of each other.”
Sae feels his lashes clump together with tears and blinks them away. “It sounds exhausting.”
“Yeah,” Shidou agrees. “It is. But you’ve done harder things.”
Silence settles between them. Then–
“You could be happy too,” he says, his fingers continuing their path through Sae’s hair. “If you let yourself.”
The midfielder in his lap sighs, his expression tired. “I don’t think I can.”
Shidou makes a noise of confusion. His eyes narrow slightly, searching. “Why not?”
“I don’t feel happy for long. It comes, but it’s only for a little bit.”
The demon huffs out a laugh and flicks Sae’s forehead, making him glare. “You’re not gonna get good at it in the beginning, dumbass. It’s like a muscle. You gotta keep finding happiness, over and over again. Until it sticks.”
Sae’s eyes flick back to his, something unreadable in his gaze. His voice is raw. “What if I try and it still doesn’t work?”
He’s met with a smile, all teeth. “Then you try again. Again and again, until it works.”
Sae looks at him, meeting his gaze. There’s life in his eyes, and he’s happy. He makes it sound so simple. Like it really is that simple. Shidou tilts his head. “So? Where to?”
Sae opens his mouth, and he’s all of a sudden aware of the open window, the cool breeze in his hair, the sound of the city in his ears. The warm feeling of Shidou’s hands on him, and the fact that the hole in his chest feels a little smaller than before. It’s not gone, not yet. But maybe one day.
“I want to go to the beach.”
So, Sae climbs back into the passenger seat, Shidou shifts the gear to drive, and they go to the beach. Because it really is that simple.