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Contemplating his reflection in the mirror, Kenta pursed his lips as he smoothed down the tee-shirt that might have a been size too small. It stretched over his chest, tight down his stomach, riding up a little at the waistband of his trousers. His hair wasn’t behaving either, and he fiddled with his bangs and tried not to wrinkle his nose at the person staring back at him.
“Hey!” Kim’s voice floated through the closed door to his bedroom. “Are you almost ready? We’re going to be late to meet the guys.”
The guys. X-Hunter. Babe and Charlie and Alan and Pete and everyone else who had played a part in finally ridding Tony from their lives for the second time around. This was supposed to be a celebration, but Kenta felt nervous as he swept his hair back again. He told himself it was because he didn’t do well in large groups, but the truth was, he was more concerned about one person in particular.
A knock on the door startled him, but he only huffed out a breath as Kim’s voice came through.
“You okay in there? What’s taking so long? You only have two outfits.”
Kenta wasn’t surprised that Kim didn’t wait for his answer before the knob twisted and the door inched open, slowly, as if Kenta could still stop it if he wanted to. Kim was considerate that way. He was considerate in a lot of ways which might have been why Kenta’s heart jumped into his throat the moment Kim stuck his head around the frame.
“Oh wow,” Kim said, sounding pleasantly surprised, and Kenta could hear his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears as Kim stepped inside, eyes skimming down Kenta’s body in a way that made him swallow nervously. “I didn’t know you owned anything that wasn’t black.”
“It’s dark green,” Kenta mumbled even though he was glad Kim had noticed. Of course Kim had noticed—he was good at that.
Kenta wasn’t sure what had possessed him when he’d pulled this shirt from the drawer—he’d just known he’d wanted to wear something different tonight.
Stepping up to Kenta, Kim wore that same warm smile he often did around Kenta, eyes bright but soft, a tilt to his head as he took in Kenta.
“Well, you look very nice,” he said, more seriously than he needed to, and that didn’t help the jumping beans in Kenta’s stomach. Nor did the way Kim reached up without thinking and swept his bangs perfectly into place.
Kenta just stared at Kim, watching his fingers, hoping they might brush against his face as they fell, that they might linger at his temple or his cheek or his jaw.
It was a stupid thought, but one he couldn’t stop. In the past two months, since he had come to live with Kim, so many things had happened, and the most surprising of all was Kim’s kindness. He seemed to have a never-ending supply for Kenta, whether it was cooking him dinner or stopping him from running headfirst into danger. Kim could even forgive Kenta’s constant surly behavior, always knew the right thing to say to make Kenta feel better about a situation.
And that might have been why Kenta felt nervous with Kim standing this close. He wondered, as he felt Kim adjust the neckline on his shirt, sweeping the wrinkles off his shoulder, if Kim ever thought the same about him. If Kim looked forward to seeing him, sitting down to dinner and eating in a comfortable silence that Kenta had never felt before. If Kim’s heart beat faster when Kenta handed him the dish-drying towel and their fingers grazed past each others’.
It was things like that that kept Kenta up at night, staring at the dark ceiling of Kim’s guest bedroom, replaying the way Kim had brought home dumplings the other day because Kenta mentioned off-handedly that he liked them.
“Come on,” Kim said finally once his hand had dropped. “They’re probably already there.”
Kenta didn’t say that he barely cared about the rest of the guys—they surely weren’t waiting on pins and needles for him to arrive. But Kim was looking forward to it, so Kenta swallowed down any reluctance and went with him.
Kenta had noticed it more and more over the past month—the way Kim protected him even when there was no need. Walking on the street side to shield him from cars, a soft, guiding hand at his back through crowds, a firm grip on his arm to stop him from acting irrationally. It had been annoying at first, feeling as if Kim didn’t trust him to take care of himself. And then it had changed—strangely gnawing when Kim forced Kenta to face himself, to admit he couldn’t do everything alone, to be willing to accept help.
So he accepted what Kim had offered, and in return, all he’d gotten was an aching in his chest whenever Kim smiled at him, something fluttery and anxious at every touch, purposeful or otherwise. Most of what Kim did felt purposeful, from making coffee every morning for both of them to ensuring he kept a fresh stock of Kenta’s favorite desserts.
At least that was what Kenta told himself as he found his gaze on Kim as they drove the dark streets, lit up by colorful signs and dim street lamps. No one had ever cared that much about what he did before, and while it had caught him off-guard in the beginning, he could only feel ingratiated that Kim did.
With Pete, he’d always known it was one-sided, that what Pete mostly felt for him was guilt rather than affection. He’d stuck him with Kim because he had to, because he didn’t want Kenta at his place, a constant reminder of their past. Knowing hadn’t stopped it from hurting, seeing Pete with someone else, the way Pete talked to him as if he was nothing more than a soldier in the war against Tony.
In the past few months, despite knowing what he knew, Kenta had begun to allow himself to hope that it might be different with Kim, that Kim did these things because he wanted to and not because he had to.
Kim caught Kenta looking as they pulled up to the bar and he parked the car.
“Something on my face?” Kim asked, and Kenta’s eyes darted away, sharp, embarrassed to be caught even as Kim smiled easily and unbuckled his seatbelt. “It won’t be as bad as you’re thinking.”
Kenta hadn’t voiced any of the concerns floating through his head about hanging out with the entire X-Hunter crew, but as usual, Kim already knew. Despite his worries as he climbed out of the car, he also felt something strangely warm and fuzzy filling his chest at the way Kim seemed to know exactly what was going through his mind and had reassurance ready.
It made him feel seen and appreciated and cared for, and that was new.
Suppressing his smile, Kenta worked his face into something neutral, if not a little scowl, as he followed Kim into the bar. No one could know he was having these feelings even as Kim’s hand brushed against his as they squeezed through the crowd.
Some of the guys were already there, and Kenta could pick out voices over the rest of the people. He spotted Babe and Charlie, joined at the hip like always, along with Alan and Jeff, and even Pete, who looked a little worse for the wear after the Chris drama.
“You started without us!” Kim chided them as he slid up to the table and waved Kenta in beside him. Kenta had to squish a little, in between Kim and Charlie, watching how easily Kim hugged Alan in greeting.
“If we were waiting for Kenta, we’d never start,” Babe pointed out from across the table, tipping his beer at Kenta as if in jest.
Kim glanced at Kenta, as if gauging his reaction to Babe’s ribbing. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” he said, setting a warm, gentle hand on Kenta’s shoulder and squeezing. “Kenta makes a killer cocktail and he’s amazing with that knife.”
Babe snorted into his drink even as Kenta felt the tips of his ears going red, more from Kim’s compliments than anything.
“And I bet you clean up after yourself too, like a good boy,” Babe said, reaching to pinch Kenta’s cheeks, but Kenta smacked him away, dislodging Kim’s hand in the process.
“P’Babe, be nice,” Charlie chided, hanging on Babe’s shoulder, but Kenta could ignore him. He was here because Kim had wanted him there, not Babe.
“What do you guys want to drink?” Alan asked from beside Kim, and Kim paused.
“I’ll have a whiskey sour, and Kenta likes the vodka tonic,” Kim answered, glancing at Kenta for confirmation, but he didn’t need to ask. He’d told Kim that a long time ago, as an aside when he’d been mixing some drinks and Kim had asked what he preferred. He never would have expected Kim to remember, so it surprised him, and he could only jerk his head when Kim and Alan waited for his reply.
As Alan headed for the bar, Kenta wondered how Kim remembered, why he remembered something so insignificant. It was a strange feeling, something overwhelmingly special about it that he’d never felt before. But that was how everything went with Kim. In the past month, he’d felt nothing but cared for, Kim’s attentiveness throwing him for a loop every time. He’d spent so much time doubting it, trying to figure it out as new and confusing feelings grew in him day by day until every time he looked at Kim, his stomach went all loopy and dumb.
Kenta had been through this before, with Pete, tricked into believing that any amount of kindness equated to love. But Kim was different, he thought. Kim saw him in a way Pete never had.
“Hey, Sonic!” Kim’s voice broke through Kenta’s contemplations, and he glanced up at North and Sonic weaving their way toward the table. As they approached them, Kim reached for Sonic’s shirt. “Wow, nice outfit. You look amazing!”
Kim didn’t see what was so amazing about the lavender overshirt and asymmetrical leapard print shirt underneath, but his eyes snapped to the way Kim was straightening his collar and patting his shoulder—the exact same thing he’d done to Kenta not half an hour ago.
“It’s nothing,” Sonic said, beaming anyway, primping at the compliment as North’s hand slid around his waist and tugged him closer.
“Kim’s right. It’s amazing and so are you,” North said, interrupted by an outbreak of groans at the cheesy line.
“I liked it better when you were awkwardly avoiding each other,” Babe joked.
“Like you and Charlie aren’t just as gross,” Sonic pointed out. “At least we don’t have sex in the locker room for everyone to hear.”
“You should. It’s good cardio,” Alan said as he returned and Jeff slapped a hand over his mouth.
“Lung!”
Alan pulled his face away with a cheeky smile at Jeff and handed Kim his drink, and Kim passed Kenta’s over. This wasn’t a conversation Kenta could join in, nor did he want to. His thoughts still lingered on the way Kim had touched Sonic so easily, as easily as he touched Kenta to fix his clothes or adjust his hair.
He wanted to frown, but there were too many people around the table. Too many people in this bar with the loud music playing through the speakers, the sounds of talking and laughing and glasses clinking. So he took a breath and a sip of his drink instead. Maybe he was thinking too much about it.
“How’s the drink?” Kim asked, and Kenta’s skin prickled where Kim’s hand came to rest on his forearm, fingers grazing his wrist, as if he just wanted his attention.
“It’s fine,” Kenta muttered, but Kim didn’t take his hand back right away, eyes on Kenta for a beat too long.
But then it was gone. Both Kim’s eyes and his hand, reaching for one of the plates of food in the middle of the table. Kenta could feel the way it tingled, where Kim had touched, distracted by it as Kim popped a salted egg in his mouth.
“Oh,” Kim said, eyes wide as he chewed. “Have you guys tried this yet?”
There was a general murmur of assent from the guys, a few reaching for the plate, but Jeff shook his head.
“I’ve never had it,” he said, not seeming bothered at the noises from North and Alan and Kim, as if they simply couldn’t believe it. Kenta didn’t see what the big deal was. He’d never had salted egg either.
“Here, Jeff, you have to,” Kim said, grabbing a piece off the plate and holding it up to Jeff.
Kenta could feel his eyebrows rising as he watched, too shocked to hide his surprise, at the way Kim offered up the food to Jeff’s mouth as if it meant nothing at all. It had definitely not been nothing when Kim had fed Kenta that samgyeopsal not that long ago. So easy for Kim, so unnervingly thoughtful, so simply sweet. So unexpected that someone would care to feed him.
He watched, in bewilderment, Jeff open his mouth and take the bite Kim fed to him. When Kim had done it for him, it had seemed special, but now, he wasn’t sure.
“You should eat something, Kenta,” Kim said a moment later, nudging a plate toward him. “You can’t survive on vodka alone.”
Kenta gaze darted between the plate of salted eggs and Kim, mind churning with questions he didn’t have answers to. A part of him thought he’d had Kim figured out—after all, they’d been living together for the last two months—but now he couldn’t help wondering if he’d gotten it all wrong.
He couldn’t answer that, though, not with so many people around, Kim laughing at something Alan said, and Kenta, stuck on the outside as usual.
*
Kenta had always been good at observing, at noticing the things other people dismissed. He saw how Alan and Jeff stood close together even though there was plenty of space at the table. He saw how North hung all over Sonic as if he simply couldn’t get enough of touching him. He saw how Babe took the alcoholic drink from Charlie’s hand when North wanted to toast, a celebration to the end of Tony.
It had always been useful, to see what was going on. To anticipate the shift in moods, to sense the changes around him before they happened. But just because he could see the pieces, it didn’t mean he was good at fitting the puzzle together.
For example, Kenta noticed the way Kim picked out things he knew he liked from the platters of food and put them on a plate for Kenta. But he also saw Kim ordering drinks for the other guys and he seemed to know exactly what they liked too.
“Are you still afraid of us, Kenta?” Charlie asked when he stared after Kim as he headed for the bar to get another round.
Scowling, Kenta didn’t know how to answer that. He’d never been afraid of X-Hunter. He just didn’t belong and it was never more obvious than when Kim left him alone and he had to face small talk with people who had once despised him.
“I’m not afraid,” he muttered finally when all eyes turned to him.
“Leave the poor guy alone.” Alan stepped in, grinning at Kenta in what he was sure was supposed to be reassuring, but it just felt uneasy. “He’s been stuck with Kim in that apartment for months. This is probably the first time he’s really gotten out.”
“You can tell us if Kim’s not as perfect as he seems,” North added, leaning over the table despite Sonic pulling him back. “Does he leave wet towels on the floor or leave the dishes so long they grow mold?”
Kenta shook his head. Kim was a pretty good roommate, considering Kenta had been dumped there, like Alan said. He’d been forgiving and understanding and pushed back when he needed to, didn’t let Kenta do stupid things that would get himself hurt, or at least, insisted on coming along to help.
It had made Kenta feel good, cared for in a way no one ever had before, but as he thought back on it, he wondered if that was just who Kim was.
Kim was pretty perfect, Kenta found himself thinking as his gaze drifted over the crowd again to the bar where Kim stood, waiting. Too perfect. Too nice. Nice to everyone, Kenta thought as Kim smiled at the bartender.
“Come on,” North ribbed Kenta. “Tell us one annoying thing he does. I need to know he’s human.”
That was the problem, Kenta realized with everyone’s eyes on him. Kim was too good to be true.
“He… won’t let me go anywhere alone,” Kenta offered when he couldn’t think of anything Kim did that truly annoyed him. He wasn’t overly messy, usually cleaned up after himself in a relatively timely manner. Kenta didn’t mind that he left his toothbrush on the counter instead of putting it in the holder or that he constantly switched out Kenta’s pillow so he’d have a fresh one to sleep on. It had made him feel good, coming back to a clean pillow, as if it was something special Kim did for him.
Glancing around the table, though, he thought that maybe Kim would do it for anyone and he wasn’t that special. In the time he’d spent with Kim, it had almost always been them alone or them with one other person. Never in a group. Never in a casual setting with everyone where Kim could relax and not be stressed about some mission.
“That’s just being protective,” North scoffed, as if he would have expected that from Kim.
“No one’s perfect,” Alan added before Kenta could frown at the implication that Kim’s protectiveness had nothing to do with Kenta at all and was simply part of his personality. “Not even Kim.”
“Are you gossiping about me?” Kim reappeared at the table, hands full of drinks that he passed around. He slid a glass of water in front of Kenta even though he hadn’t asked and he couldn’t help staring at the way the liquid sloshed in the glass, reflecting the bar lights. It was just a drink. A silent offering because Kim knew he would only have one glass of alcohol because he wanted to stay sharp.
“Don’t worry,” North said, reaching over to slap Kim’s shoulder. “The worst Kenta said was that you’re over-protective.”
“I didn’t say that,” Kenta snapped before he could stop himself, annoyed at North for twisting his words, annoyed that he could get all worked up about a glass of water that meant nothing.
Kim tilted his head to the side curiously, eyes soft in that way that usually made Kenta’s stomach go all fuzzy, but it had turned to iron in the last hour since he’d watched Kim touching his friends so casually, feeding Jeff, laughing with Alan and Charlie in ways he rarely did with Kenta.
He just kept thinking that all of those things he had thought were special, all of those easy gestures and moments where Kenta had felt his stomach swoop in surprise; all of those were nothing more than who Kim was with everyone. There was nothing special about Kenta but somehow, he’d let himself believe there could be.
“Then what did you say about me?” Kim asked, pressing in against Kenta’s shoulder conspiratorially. Kenta jerked away, seemingly surprising Kim as his eyebrows jumped.
“Just that you never leave me alone,” Kenta muttered, which was also not entirely accurate.
“Hmm,” Kim hummed in response, eyes never leaving Kenta as if he was working something out. “I just wanted to help.”
And that made Kenta’s stomach sink even more as he finished what was left of his drink and ignored the water in front of him. Maybe he would have another, defy Kim’s expectations, prove he could handle himself just fine and he didn’t need Kim’s pity or protection to do it.
Kenta had thought, over the past few weeks, that maybe there was something there. There had been moments when Kim was close enough that they could have kissed, when he thought Kim’s eyes lingered on his chest, when he had convinced himself that Kim felt the same. But it was falling apart right here, right now. Had he really allowed himself to manufacture feelings where there were none?
“Well, you did,” Kenta grunted at the table. “And now you can go back to Korea with a guilt-free conscience.”
An awkward silence fell around the table at Kenta’s words, but he didn’t care. It was the truth, wasn’t it? Kim had only done it as favor to Pete, an obligation he’d committed to. Any kindness he had shown Kenta was the same he would have given to anyone else.
Kenta could feel his heart beating again, and his stomach felt sort of queasy as his pulse thumped in the back of his chest. Could he have been so naive as to believe Kim really cared for him and he wasn’t just doing the job Pete had assigned? He should have known better than to let himself think it meant the same thing to Kim as it did for him.
And now he just felt stupid with everyone staring at him.
“So, Alan, I hear you and Jeff are thinking of getting a puppy,” Sonic piped up, very clearly changing the subject, as if Kenta hadn’t made it awkward for everyone.
Pushing away from the table, Kenta didn’t need to stay, not with Kim still watching him, a furrow to his brow, concern marring his face.
“Where are you going?” Kim asked, quiet, grabbing Kenta’s arm in a way he’d done many times before. To stop him running out of the apartment, to hold him back from attacking Way’s lookalike, to pull him to safety from some guy coming after them with a bat.
Shaking him off, Kenta didn’t meet his gaze. He was an idiot for allowing himself to think Kim cared about him any differently than his other friends. That was his own damn fault.
“Bathroom,” he grumbled, yanking his shirt down where it rode up his hips. He hated this shirt. He was going to throw it out when he got home.
He was relieved, but not surprised, when Kim let him go. Pushing through the groups of people, all having the time of their lives, Kenta glowered as he stomped across the room and disappeared into the bathroom.
It was quieter in there, the music muffled by the heavy door, and Kenta stood at the sink, forcing himself to take a deep breath. It wasn’t Kim’s fault, he knew, even as the anger and disappointment welled up inside him. Kim hadn’t done anything he wouldn’t do with his other friends.
Kenta had been stupid to think that someone like Kim could really like him. He wasn’t anything special. He didn’t have any alpha powers. He wasn’t particularly smart or talented. No one had any reason to keep him around.
Rubbing at his face, Kenta pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes as he took another breath. He had to get himself together before he went back out there and faced Kim again.
Kenta jumped at a touch to his shoulder, something gentle but that made him whirl around anyway. He should have known Kim would follow him. Because Kim was a nice guy who cared about his friends.
“Are you okay?” Kim asked as Kenta tried to calm his heart, taken by surprised at Kim’s arrival. He was better than this.
Kenta turned back to the sink, unable to avoid Kim’s reflection in the mirror. “Fine.”
“You don’t seem fine,” Kim said, because he could never let Kenta just be. He always had to push. “You seem upset.”
“Well, I’m not,” Kenta grunted, turning on the sink to wash his hands even though they weren’t dirty. He just needed something to do that wasn’t looking at Kim’s confused face.
“If you’re not upset, then what about this line right here?” Kim asked, stepping up to Kenta and surprising him with a finger pressed to his forehead, right where he scowled.
“Don’t.” Kenta jerked away from Kim, glaring at him.
It wasn’t Kim’s fault, he reminded himself even as Kim frowned too. Kenta had been the one reading too much into it, allowing himself to fall for someone like Kim who could have anyone he wanted.
“Kenta, what is wrong?” Kim asked, shaking his head as if he just didn’t understand. “Why are you acting so weird?”
“Nothing,” he said, tugging at his stupid shirt. “I’m acting the way I always do. Just like you. You’re always nice to everyone. Feeding them, complimenting them, thinking about what they need.”
Kim didn’t answer for a second, eyeing Kenta in that way that annoyed Kenta, like he was figuring something out. Kenta didn’t want to talk about what he was feeling. Was it jealousy? Disappointment? Something he should have expected all along?
“Does it bother you?” Kim asked after a second, and Kenta heard himself huff, yanking a paper towel off the dispenser to dry his hands.
Bother? Bother? Yes, it bothered him. He’d let himself believe that Kim cared about him as more than a roommate, that he was more than just Tony’s lapdog or Pete’s attack hound. That someone could love him despite everything he’d done. Everything he was.
But Kim cared about everyone. Kenta wasn’t special. Not at all.
“No,” he lied, turning to face Kim finally and drawing himself up, crossing his arms over his chest, protecting himself the only way he knew how.
“I think it does,” Kim said after a second, and Kenta scowled. Kim never let him get away with anything, and up until an hour ago, he’d appreciated that, as if Kim did it because he wanted to be sure Kenta wasn’t acting recklessly. But now, Kenta knew he’d do it for anyone and it made his stomach curl at the thought of Kim pushing back against Babe or Charlie or Jeff just because he was a good guy. “But my question is why?”
Kenta couldn’t even begin to explain why without admitting the growing feelings he’d been having these past couple months, feelings Kim definitely didn’t return judging by the way he acted with everyone else.
Drawing back against the sink, Kenta didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. It would make him look like an idiot for thinking those things.
“Kenta,” Kim said quietly, stepping up to him and reaching for his face, soft fingers falling down his cheek. Kenta swatted him away, though.
“Stop it,” he said, taking a quick breath to calm his pounding heart. It was so easy for Kim to do these things, to make Kenta feel like he was the only important thing in that moment, but it wasn’t real. It was the same Kim would do for anyone, and it hurt.
“Kenta,” Kim tried again, but he didn’t touch him this time, but his voice was still soft, as if coaxing something out of Kenta, “I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”
How did Kim do this? Ask a simple question that opened some kind of floodgate inside of Kenta, as if he wanted to spill all his secrets to him because he knew Kim would listen.
Blinking away the prickling behind his eyes, Kenta picked a spot over Kim’s shoulder to focus on. It was a stain on the tile, but Kenta’s mind didn’t wander to how clean this bathroom was.
“It’s nothing. It’s stupid. It’s—” Kenta stopped, the feelings welling up in his chest and threatening to choke him. He couldn’t just say this to Kim when he knew what the answer would be. But Kim was staring at him, not saying a word, waiting patiently for him to finish like he always did. “I just didn’t know that this was who you are.”
Kim’s eyebrows furrowed, confused, shaking his head. “What do you mean?”
Frowning, Kenta pressed his arms tighter across his chest. “You would have done it for anyone, wouldn’t you?” He asked, but Kim just frowned in reply, as if he didn’t understand what Kenta was saying. “Let them stay, treated them like family, taken care of them.”
Kim blinked slowly. “Why is that bad?”
“It’s not.”
That was the point. All of that was the mark of a good person. But it didn’t mean anything else, not like Kenta had allowed himself to think. Allowed himself to get attached to the idea of Kim being around, that Kim might feel the same way.
“Then why do you seem so unhappy?” Kim asked, stepping close to Kenta, a gentle hand on his forearm, and Kenta left it there despite his frown.
“Because that’s all it was,” Kenta muttered, knowing he shouldn’t say anything. “You being you.”
He saw the moment the light flicked on behind Kim’s eyes, the unspoken ’Oh,’ and he wanted to run away. It was just like with Pete. Kim knew now and Kenta would have to live with the knowledge that he didn’t feel the same.
“Kenta,” Kim said after a second, but Kenta shook his head. He didn’t need to be let down easy or told he was a great guy but Kim wasn’t into him like that. He just wanted to get out of there.
“Please don’t,” he said, casting his gaze at the ground, and he heard the breath Kim took and exhaled.
“I wasn’t planning on doing this in a bar bathroom, but I guess I don’t have a choice,” Kim said, confusing Kenta, and he looked up just in time for Kim’s hands to close around his jaw and for Kim to lean in and kiss him.
Kim’s lips were soft, tender, tingly as he pressed into Kenta, and all Kenta could do was kiss him back. His arms fell to his sides, back pressed into the edge of the countertop, Kim rising on his toes to meet him and kiss him again. A delicate slide of their tongues, something jittery and excited and confused all at once rolling around his stomach as he tried to make sense of it. Did Kim do this with his other friends too?
It felt like forever, but it was probably just a few seconds, before Kim pulled back, eyes drifting to Kenta’s as if inspecting his reaction.
“You think, just because I’m friendly, that I don’t like you more?” Kim asked after a beat, and Kenta didn’t know what to say.
“You do everything the same,” he said stupidly because it was true. Everything Kim had done with him, he’d done tonight with his friends. How did that make him any different?
“Not everything,” Kim said, watching Kenta, and Kenta’s heartbeat rabbited in his chest. “I don’t want P’Alan to slide his hand around my waist. I don’t want Charlie to get close enough so I can smell his cologne. I don’t want to have dinner every night with North or wake up next to Sonic. I don’t want to hang out with everyone if you’re not there.”
Again, Kenta hesitated. He didn’t know what that meant, or if he was thinking things that weren’t true, even with Kim gazing at him so softly. It would be easy to let his thoughts run away, to hope Kim meant what he said, but he’d been wrong before. Too many times.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it more clear,” Kim said, and Kenta’s eyes flicked up. Why was he apologizing? Kenta was the one who’d made a big deal out of nothing. “But let me do it now.” He saw Kim swallow, saw how he shuffled closer, into Kenta’s space, his hands still gripping his neck where the skin prickled and hairs sprang up. “I like having you around, Kenta. I want you in my life, as more than a friend. And I’ll try to make you feel special for the rest of your life if I can.”
Kenta opened his mouth but no words came out. No one had ever said anything remotely like that to him in his life. And he couldn’t help it when the tears welled up in his eyes without permission, spilling out before he could stop them.
“It’s okay,” Kim said, careful, brushing away the tears even as Kenta tried to scrub them from his face, embarrassed at this show of emotion that he couldn’t control. The balloon in his chest, the pulse throbbing in his throat, his nose tingling, eyes burning, and all because of Kim. All because someone as good as Kim cared about him. Maybe even loved him?
Sniffing, Kenta tried to get ahold of himself, but he let Kim wipe away the tears as they streaked down his cheeks, reach for a paper towel to blow his nose in a very unattractive fashion. But Kim smiled anyway, tossing the towel in the trash and coming back to Kenta.
“So,” he said after a second as Kenta composed himself, taking a deep breath and releasing his grip from the countertop. He didn’t like crying in front of other people, showing that weakness. “Do you think that’s something you might want too?”
Kenta could only nod, not trusting himself to speak even as the lump dissipated from his throat, worried he might trigger more tears if he said yes, if he admitted how much he wanted this to Kim.
Kim’s smile softened, tender as he brushed his thumbs over Kenta’s cheeks, and Kenta wouldn’t say he swooned, but yeah, he swooned into the touch.
“We don’t have to go back out there,” Kim said when Kenta straightened up, tugged down his annoying shirt, and this time, he was sure Kim’s eyes drifted to it. Maybe he hadn’t been imagining every thing. “We could just go home.”
“No,” Kenta said finally, shaking his head. “Let’s go back.”
Kim seemed surprised, but he didn’t argue this time. Kenta wasn’t sure why he wanted to spend more time with the X-Hunter guys, but he knew as long as Kim was there, he could bear it. He did pause Kim at the door to the bathroom, though, glancing down at his hand.
Kim’s gaze flicked to him, a question in his eyes, but he waited for Kenta. It was new and different, but Kenta liked it as he slid his palm into Kim’s, fingers twining together, a warmth that filled him all the way down his toes, especially when Kim’s face lit up in return.
“Okay?” he asked, unsure even with Kim beaming at him like that, fingers squeezing his own.
“Okay,” Kim agreed, swiftly, surely, and Kenta couldn’t help but smile too, not even bothering to suppress it this time. He just held on tight to Kim as he pushed the door open and stepped into the crowded bar.
*
FIN.