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reo mikage does not go back.
he continues to move on — forward and forward because as a mikage, he doesn’t have time to stop. that’s what he tells himself when he wakes up in the morning and looks at himself as he ties his hair back, what he tells himself when he gets his priorities straight and leaves whatever is holding him back, it’s what he tells himself because he knows it isn’t true.
he knows it isn’t true because his heart flutters all the same when he opens the front door after hearing a set of three rapid knocks and sees his ex, seishirou nagi, standing out in the rain.
god, he hates that he can’t say it doesn’t make him blush.
reo’s scratching the back of his neck and he hates how easy he feels — how he already wants the boy back and all he’s done is stand in the rain and whine in that stupidly familiar tone.
”reoooo…” and he drags out the ‘o’ like he always does, “why’d you block me?”
he pauses, his fingers twitching on the door and he knows that he should tell him ‘no’ and slam it on his face, but reo can’t bring himself to do something so cruel — no, not to his seishirou. reo knows he’s a lost cause.
“nagi?” he asks as if he doesn’t know who it is yet, “why are you in the rain? you’re going to get sick. you need to—”
great, all he has to do is say go and slam the door on his face —
“come on in, you’re all wet again,” comes out before he can stop himself, and he already feels himself stepping to the side, letting the boy enter his house — disgusting, his carpet is damp now — and he can already hear chigiri’s facepalm when he calls him over the phone tomorrow.
nagi huffs, shaking his hair like a wet dog and reo only smiles; it’s love, they can’t blame him. “you can’t just be out in the rain like that,” reo tuts, putting his hands on seishirou’s back and pushing him towards the bathroom.
( oh, he’s in love.
he’s pretty under the lighting — reo can make out his brown irises so much more and he wants to get lost in them again, to have seishirou lay down in his lap and let his fingers run through his hair. he likes combing the knots out with his fingers, he knows seishirou finds it calmer than any other comb or brush.
reo wants to go back all over again. )
“i didn’t have a jacket,” nagi hums, shrugging all together, “didn’t feel like finding one.”
“what about the one i let you borrow?” the one that he still hadn’t gotten back, but it was okay — reo wasn’t supposed to give it to him, but nagi was looking for one, and who was reo mikage if not a lover who provided?
he pushes nagi onto the toilet, opening the bathroom closet and reaching for a towel — the one that he specifically uses for hair — and puts it on the sink, crossing his arms. “somewhere in my closet?” nagi shrugs, seemingly unsure.
“you’ll get sick if you stay in your clothes,” reo switches the topic, shaking his head and glancing back into the hallway — he prays his parents aren’t awake. “i’ll get you a pair of pajamas, you can take those off.” and seishirou nods, rubbing at his eyes and he starts stripping before reo can even leave the room, shamelessly so.
reo doesn’t know if he wants to kiss or kill him.
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it doesn’t take him long to find clothes — something that’ll actually fit seishirou — because he has a habit of leaving his clothing over at reo’s house whenever he comes over, and reo collects them. just to wash them and return them. he makes an effort to sneak down the hallway without passing by his parents’ room, and when he makes it back to the bathroom, he has to pray that his face isn’t as red as it feels.
“change, just so you don’t catch a cold.” and he shoves the clothes into nagi’s chest, but he isn’t sure whether to groan or swoon. not when he catches his gaze drifting beneath the waist and —
reo steps out of the bathroom and closes the door as softly as he can. even after, he still finds his hand lingering on the knob.
god, he feels stupid.
nagi doesn’t take long changing because it isn’t much to put on, and when he steps out of the bathroom, reo isn’t sure if he should feel upset that he wasn’t asked to help. no, he thinks, he’s just over you. like you should be over him.
but he isn’t, and he hates it.
a finger pokes him out of thought, and as he refocuses, he’s met with a lazy ( like he always is, like how reo loves him ) seishirou tugging on the strings of the hoodie he’s put on. “why’s reo acting so weird?” but he says it like he doesn’t recall everything that’s happened in the past few weeks, like he doesn’t remember their argument, the breakup, the avoidance — has he not noticed anything?
“i—” reo stops himself, biting down on his lower lip, “i’m fine, nagi.”
“but you blocked me,” nagi huffs.
“my phone bill cut off,”
“reo’s phone bill never cuts off,”
reo glances away, a frown tugging at his lips. “you should go back home now, yeah?” and he can see nagi’s shoulders slouch in his peripheral vision but he doesn’t give in to the pout on his lips. even if he wants to.
“it’s still raining though,” seishirou shrugs, licking his lips to wet them. “why doesn’t reo want me here?”
because we aren’t a thing anymore, is what he wants to say, but he just sighs and scratches the back of his head. “my parents are home, and i don’t have anywhere for you to sleep.” it’s a lie, one that nagi knows is a lie, and reo hates that he doesn’t fail to point it out.
“reo’s acting weird again,” he whines, “can’t i just lay in reo’s bed?”
“what? no — we aren’t…” a thing, a couple, a pair — not anymore. “we aren’t doing that. i’ll just call ba-ya and ask her to take you home.”
nagi looks at him dumbfounded, like he’s said something completely stupid — which would be odd because if anyone says something stupid, it’s nagi. “ba-ya-san is asleep, right? it’s past midnight.” but he’s right because ba-ya is asleep, and while she would wake up if reo desperately needed her, calling and asking her to give nagi a ride home would be a little selfish.
reo crosses his arms, brows furrowing and his nails digging into his skin as he tries to think of a solution. there are the guest bedrooms, but those rooms are on the same floor as his parents’ room and waking them up would be the last thing he would need for tonight. he could just send nagi home and make him walk in the rain with an umbrella, but he doesn’t want to treat his treasure like that. he could get sick or get kidnapped — that’s not an option.
last solution is his floor.
“yeah, right. i’ll, uh, get you a blanket.” he sighs, but a small part of him feels relieved.
his room isn’t a far walk from the bathroom — just up the stairs and then down the hallway. it’s not hard to miss when it has two double doors unlike all of the other rooms. reo’s set on making nagi’s little bed on the floor from the moment he steps in; pillows, blankets, sheets, and the small mattress he keeps tucked beneath his bed for situations like this. like when they were together.
he supposes he’s lucky he hadn’t thrown it away after.
“just, try to not make too much noise?” he rubs his sweaty palms off on his shorts as he slides into bed. “if someone knocks on the door, just stay still, okay?”
and nagi nods — even if it isn’t his first time doing this — tucking himself in the smaller bed. “okaaay,” he yawns, but he doesn’t turn over on his stomach to go to sleep like how he usually does. he just lays there, looking at reo expectantly.
reo pretends not to see him.
“reo,” nagi huffs out, and he turns over with a pout. “mm, goodnight.”
“goodnight,”
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they’re hardly even two hours into laying down before reo feels someone tugging at his blanket, and he has to mentally prepare himself to open his eyes.
“reooooo,” nagi whines, his voice groggy and heavy from what reo has to guess is sleep. “i’m cold again, can i lay with you?” and reo sits up because he can’t just ignore him. not when his treasure is so stupidly useless and all he can do is whine. it’s hard to play irritated though, because nagi is looking up at him with those beautiful, half-lidded eyes and he just has to give in.
“come here, sei,” he opens his blanket even for nagi to crawl in, and he ignores the fact that nagi’s skin is warm. “i’m right here, go to sleep.” reo shushes, but his cheeks are flushed with a dark red when nagi’s face presses against his chest and he buries his face into his hair to hide.
the smaller, more logical part of him wants to groan in irritation — about the fact that he’s right back at square one and god, it’s embarrassing because he does this every time. he can’t even imagine what life without nagi would feel like. it makes him so stupidly in love.
but he doesn’t, and instead he lets nagi’s arms wrap around his torso as he holds him closer because he isn’t sure when he’ll get this moment again. probably tomorrow if he keeps this up. “i’m sorry, baby,” reo utters, kissing his hair and running a hand through the strands. they’re stuck together, some in knots and the others soft and loose — he wouldn’t mind washing his hair later after school tomorrow.
“it’s fine,” nagi says, but he sounds like he’s on the verge of falling asleep at any moment.
right, he should let him rest.
“sleep well, sei.”
and he doesn’t get a verbal response, but he hears a snore and he’s content enough with that.
aaand, he’s already failed rule one: don’t get back with seishirou.