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Kenta has been an exceptional roommate. Always cleaning after himself, helping Kim with chores, and occasionally, when he was bored, Kenta cooked dinner for both of them - a nice new hobby he took up - sharing it in comfortable silence with Kim. There was almost nothing he could complain about when it came to Kenta, a fact the rest of the X-hunter guys had a hard time believing since their response to Kenta’s release from prison was timid at best. It bothered him that they didn’t see the good in Kenta the way he did.
There was actually one thing that bothered Kim, but he knew he had no right to comment on it. It was none of Kim’s business what Kenta did in his free time, and how or if Kenta took care of his health. But every time he saw Kenta light a cigarette, it made his blood boil.
Most of the time, he despised the act of smoking itself. He hated that he had to involuntarily breathe in the disgusting smell of cigarettes every time someone smoked. Last season, when Winner smoked in front of Kim and puffed the smoke directly to his face like the annoying piece of shit he was, Kim had no problem snatching it from in between his fingers, yell at him and spit on the floor in protest. When it came to Kenta, though, he had trouble applying the same attitude.
You see, over the last couple of months, Kim has grown fond of Kenta in a way he never thought was possible. Kenta was used to cautiously observing his surroundings, watching out for any signs of threat. Nowadays it has transitioned into observing Kim’s behavior attentively for any signs of discomfort instead, which made Kim’s heart ache. And Kim? He adopted similar behavior; quietly watching Kenta go about his day, completing the most mundane tasks with so much focus and precision, listening to his quiet huffs and puffs when something didn’t go his way, and every single time it made Kim smile to himself.
Everything Kenta did has become endearing to Kim, everything except the smoking.
On a Friday night, Kim comes back to the apartment after having drinks with North and Sonic. He finds Kenta standing on the balcony, gazing at the night view of Bangkok, a lit cigarette in his hand, deep in thought. It might be the influence of the alcohol he drank, but upon seeing Kenta looking so peaceful, an unfamiliar warmth spreads through his whole body. His heart suddenly pounding faster, and if he thinks to himself that Kenta looks insanely hot and sexy, he would vehemently deny it.
“Hi,” Kenta says after noticing Kim standing in the doorway, quickly finishing the cigarette.
“Hi,” Kim replies, the warmth still lingering in his chest. This is so against his principles, but Kenta really looks so hot and breathtaking while he smokes, he thinks. It annoys him a little.
“Have you eaten? I’ve left you dinner in the fridge, thought you might be hungry,” Kenta says simply as he leaves the balcony to come closer to Kim. Kim, still deep in thought, stares at Kenta intensely.
“Hello?? Are you alright?” Kenta comes even closer to Kim than before, now standing only a few inches apart, waving his arms in front of Kim’s face.
Kim inhales fiercely, breathing in all of Kenta’s scent. In theory, it should absolutely bother him, smelling the smoke of cigarettes, otherwise so repulsive, but with Kenta, his scent – the combination of woody cologne, smoke, and natural body scent makes his whole body dizzy and needy to stay in Kenta’s presence.
Only after Kenta places his hand on Kim’s shoulder, Kim comes back to his senses. “What?” he blinks in confusion, trying to shake the heat off his body. Why is it suddenly so hot in here?
“I said, I’ve left you dinner in the fridge, if you’re hungry.”
“Oh, right, yeah, eh, sure, thanks Kenta,” he stumbles over his words.
“It’s nothing special, really. Since you’re back safely, I’m going to sleep now. Good night!”
“Eh, yeah, to you too,” he mumbles. What the hell was that?
That night, if Kim takes a concerningly cold shower to calm his nerves down, and tries not to think about Kenta and his annoyingly attractive smell, he will keep it to himself. Also, did Kenta wait for him to get back home safely? Oh god, stop being so delusional. He smashes the pillow over his head, trying to stop the unwanted thoughts from appearing in his head.
Kim swore to himself it was a one-time thing, a mere confusion after drinking perhaps a little more than he should have, but when it happened again the next morning, he knew he could barely blame this one on the alcohol. Despite being punctual, waking up every day at 7 on the dot, Kenta is still usually the first one to wake up among the two of them. So when he gets up the next morning, on his way to the kitchen to make his trusted cup of coffee, and sees Kenta lifting weights on the balcony, shirtless, drops of sweat dripping down his body, he wishes he could stay hidden in his room. Kenta already sees him coming, though, dropping the weights to greet him. It is only a simple wave, something he definitely didn’t have to drop both of the weights for, but then, there it is again. Kenta searches the pockets of his sweatpants and lights a cigarette, puffing out the smoke, his shoulders relaxing.
Kim wants to jump and scream at Kenta, he wants to complain about him ruining his health, because how can you work out one second, just to smoke the next one? It doesn’t make any sense, he wants to say. How can Kenta be okay with destroying his health and staying addicted? Does he not have enough self-respect and love for himself? It annoys him so much. Kim was never the person to lose his words, always speaking his mind, sometimes being too straightforward. If it was any other person, he probably would have given them his piece of mind already. But yet again, he is found speechless when it comes to Kenta.
He can only offer the smallest bite. “Smoking so early in the morning, it can kill you, you know that, right?”
Kenta has the audacity to roll his eyes as he continues smoking. “Yeah, I am aware. It makes me relax, besides, there’s so much more that can kill me than a cigarette, you know, like Tony?”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he tries to keep his cool, it really is not his place to judge.
“Yeah, I know,” Kenta chuckles as he makes eye contact with Kim.
Oh, the nerve, Kim thinks. He wants to bite back when all he is doing is being concerned about his health? Why is he doing it anyway? It is none of his business…
“Just… don’t burn my place down, I am begging you,” he sighs and finally starts making his morning coffee.
Kenta smiles sheepishly,
This routine repeats more than Kim would like to admit. Again and again, he enters the room and finds Kenta smoking on the balcony. If he didn’t know any better, he would think Kenta does it on purpose just to get on his nerves. He likes the thought of Kenta trying to get his attention, wanting a reaction out of him. He entertains the idea for a bit before discarding it. Kenta is too rational and sane to be doing this. I am just focusing on it way too much.
Every time he sees Kenta smoking on the balcony, his breath hitches, the now not-so-unfamiliar warmth spreads through his body, and he begins to crave Kenta. He wants to yell and shout, snatch the cigarette from his hand, but all he manages to do is ogle Kenta shamelessly, with his ears turning red. What is strange though, is Kenta making his way to meet Kim - each time standing a tiny bit closer to Kim than last time, almost too tiny to be noticeable, but Kim notices every time. Of course, it is noticeable when he inhales the addictive scent of Kenta’s and wants to swim in it, wants Kenta to embrace him, squish him between his chest, wants to sniff his neck, and take a bite. Kim wants, wants, and craves, but all he gets is a suspicious look on Kenta’s face. Why does he look kind of pleased with himself? Why does he smell so damn good? Why don’t I yell at him? Why am I lost for words?
“You don’t get it, Sonic, he just smells so fucking amazing, it pisses me off,” Kim whines as he finishes yet another drink.
“Oh, I think I get it, you said it a thousand times already, you want to jump his bones soooo bad. Right, North?”
“Yeah, if I hear the detailed description of Kenta’s scent and body one more time, I’m going to slap you, man. Just make a move already,” North replies.
“Says the guy who pined for his best friend for years, yeah, I’m definitely gonna take advice from you,” Kim chuckles, bumping shoulders with North.
“In our defense, it took us a bit longer than it should have, but after we mustered up the courage and confessed, we’ve never been happier, right, baby?” Sonic replies as he leans on North’s shoulder. Kim groans upon seeing the happy couple.
“I want to do that too. With Kenta. I want him to embrace me with his stupidly muscular arms, I want him to cuddle me and never let go. Damn, fuck it, I want him to blow the stupid smoke of his stupid cigarettes to my mouth and kiss me,” he cries out desperately.
“Oh god, then don’t tell us but tell the damn guy. From your very thorough investigation, Kenta also has some explaining to do. There is absolutely no reason for him to stand so close to you. Have North or I ever done something like that to you?”
“No, we haven’t because we are friends, and I think Kenta can definitely be intense and all, but his behavior is strange, right, Sonic?”
“Yeah, just shoot your shot. Since when have you had problems speaking your mind? You’re way more expressive than necessary with us, and we definitely didn’t ask for it,” Sonic suggests as he orders another round of drinks.
Since Kenta.
It’s 3 in the morning, when Kim stumbles his way to the apartment. This time, he definitely drank too much. He tries to keep quiet, not wanting to wake Kenta up. He turns on a flashlight on his phone, knowing that turning on the lights would disturb Kenta in his sleep. Before he can tiptoe his way to his room, a voice startles him.
“Where have you been? You didn’t tell me you would come so late at night,” Kenta says, a hint of worry detectable in his tone. There he is, sitting on a couch, the dim light of the reading lamp showing the soft features of Kenta’s face, his signature black t-shirt on that hugs his chest nicely, looking absolutely incredible.
“Gosh, you scared me, eh, sorry, the meetup with North and Sonic was longer than I expected,” Kim tries to level out his breathing. Kenta gets up from the couch, approaching Kim.
“You scared me, too,” he mumbles, but Kim hears it anyway, and there is the familiar warmth settling in his chest. He might actually care.
“Did you wait for me?” The words slipping away from his mouth make Kim realize how drunk he still is.
“Yes, I did,” Kenta simply replies as if it was the most obvious thing to do, to wait for Kim to return home safely. Kim tries to take a step forward, but he suddenly trips over his own feet, expecting to fall on the floor.
Instead, he’s met with a strong grip of Kenta’s arms, head first, straight into his chest. Kim is floating on a cloud, drunk on the addictive scent of Kenta. The mix of shower gel, he must have showered not so long ago, with the tinge of cigarettes ever so present in his scent. There is a moment of silence between the two, both unsure of what the next step is supposed to be. It is Kenta who breaks the silence.
“Let me help you,” he says, guiding Kim to his bedroom with a tight grip around his waist.
“I can manage on my own,” he tries to protest, unsuccessfully. Kenta is helping him anyway.
“I know you can, but let me.”
A few minutes pass, and Kim is tucked in bed, clothes changed, swiftly falling to slumber, snoring quietly. It’s only when Kenta comes back to Kim’s room again, carrying a glass of water and painkillers, that a notification pings on Kim’s phone.
Sonic: I hope you’re jumping Kenta’s bones as we speak. Waiting for the tea later xx
Kenta smirks.
It’s almost 10 A.M., should I check up on him? It’s unusual for Kim to sleep this long. Kenta contemplates whether he should go in or not, not wanting to overstep. The hangover soup he cooked three hours ago, cold already on the stove.
He wants to go to the balcony to smoke yet again, when Kim, objectively not looking his best, slowly enters the kitchen. Kenta puts the cigarette back in the pack quickly, on his way to reheat the soup for Kim.
“You shouldn’t smoke this much, Kenta,” Kim sighs, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.
“And maybe you shouldn’t drink this much, Kim,” he bites back, smiling to himself.
“Oh, spare me the lecture, I feel sick already,” he plops down on the chair, head in his hands.
“You started it. The soup should be ready any second, it will help with the hangover.”
“Please, don’t talk about food or I’m going to throw up.”
“Well, but you need to eat something, Kim. So stop talking back and listen to me for once.”
“Eh, fine, but if I’m gonna throw up, it’s on you.”
“Sure,” Kenta rolls his eyes and goes to the bathroom.
Kenta, now freshly showered, runs his fingers through his hair, trying to cheer himself up in front of the mirror.
It’s now or never, Kenta. You’ve got this. Let’s test it. If it goes badly, you can just pretend you’ve forgotten your clothes or something.
Deep breaths, Kenta. Act normal, act nonchalant. Okay, let’s go…
He steps outside the bathroom, only in a towel tightly wrapped around his waist. Suddenly, a choked-up sound comes out of Kim’s mouth, soup spilling out of his mouth as he aggressively coughs, trying to catch his breath.
“Are you alright?” Kenta asks, running towards Kim. He gently pats his back, hoping it will help. This is not the way it was supposed to go.
cough, cough. “Yeah,” cough, cough, “I just inhaled a bit of the soup.” Cough, cough. “I’m fine,” he replies.
What doesn’t go unnoticed by Kenta is the pink blush creeping up Kim’s cheeks and his bright red ears.
“Just put your damn shirt on, Kenta,” Kim protests, trying to hide his face in the bowl of soup.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Kim,” he says as he opts for smoking on the balcony, trying to calm himself after the semi-successful stunt. I am maybe onto something after all.
Kenta has been aware for a while. How couldn’t he, when he has been closely observing every step Kim makes, monitoring his actions? He is aware of it now after Kim almost choked on his soup because of him, but he just has a hard time comprehending someone like Kim. How can someone so confident, put together, and ambitious, and caring, ever possibly like somebody like him? But maybe it’s only physical, maybe Kim finds Kenta attractive and only wants his body, something about jumping bones, as Sonic’s message said. He can live with that for now. He would like to have so much more, having Kim take care of him, and him only, in the same way Kenta does for Kim. He craves to be a special someone, Kim’s special someone, but if he can have at least a fragment of Kim’s attention just for himself, he can live with that.
“Kenta?” He says gently.
“Huh?”
“Are you listening to me now?”
“What time is it?” Kenta says tiredly, slowly sitting up from the couch. I must have fallen asleep.
“It’s going to be 7, Kenta. You’ve been napping for a while,” Kim offers, brushing away the messy bangs from Kenta’s forehead. Kenta blushes at that.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Well, I am doing that now. Besides, you looked too adorable to wake up. Do you want to get dinner?”
“Why?” Kenta questions. Did something happen?
“Just because,” Kim says with a smile. “Let’s go, please. I’m so hungry.” He offers Kenta a hand, trying to lift him from the couch. “Really, let’s go now.”
Kenta is dragged away from the apartment, Kim’s tight grip around his wrist. He still feels a bit sleepy and confused from his nap, but he has no room to protest. Anything for Kim.
Once they step outside, Kenta instinctively searches his pockets for a cigarette. He really needs one to calm his nerves. With the first drag, he hears Kim groan in annoyance.
Oh, does he absolutely have to do this right now? I am going to tell him. Finally, I am going to yell at him and tell him how I totally despise every moment he smokes. It annoys me. It annoys me how stupidly attractive he looks, how cocky and sexy he looks. It pisses me off how I want to go against my own principles, how I want him to keep me close, how I want to drown in his addictive scent, bury my nose to his neck. But I hate smoking, I hate everything about it, I hate that he’s ruining his health, that he doesn’t care if he gets sick.
It is none of his business, except it absolutely is, because he cares, he really fucking cares for Kenta.
“Kenta-aaaa!” Kim screams. Instead of saying another word, Kenta puts his hand on his mouth as he drags Kim insanely close to him, hiding behind a corner of the street, both of them breathing heavily. Kim is confused by what is happening. What the hell is Kenta doing? Why is he stopping him from speaking?
But then he realizes. By the fear visible all over Kenta’s face, he knows that something is wrong. Is it Tony? Is it one of his men? He has no idea. But he trusts Kenta.
They lock eyes, their breaths slowly evening out as they become aware of the proximity of their pressed bodies. It suddenly feels like a hundred degrees outside. Kim follows the sweat running down Kenta’s neck with his eyes. He wants to lick it clean.
“Sorry,” Kenta whispers as he removes his hand from Kim’s lips.
“I thought I saw one of Tony’s men crossing the road, and I panicked. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, again,” he continues cautiously.
“Is he out there right now?” Kim asks, not breaking eye contact.
Kenta carefully peeks around the corner onto the main street, and he luckily sees nobody.
“I don’t see anybody,” he whispers. “But we should –” his words are cut off, and he’s being kissed by Kim.
Taken aback, it takes a moment for Kenta to catch up, Kim wasting no time, trying to claim his mouth. Finally, Kenta’s body softens, reciprocating the kiss. Kenta is dizzy, drunk on the heat of the moment, not wanting to ever break off the kiss. He would rather suffocate than waste any seconds apart from Kim’s lips. His lips are so soft and plump, yet his actions are demanding and aggressive. He is hot all over, heat spreading through his chest. He could get used to this.
Kim is the one to break off the kiss, breathing heavily, lips swollen and pink. “I couldn’t take it any longer, Kenta,” he says, his hands resting on Kenta’s biceps. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. Your scent inviting me in, I tried to fight it every time, but this time I couldn’t. It annoys me so much, you annoy me so much, you and your stupid smoking, which should disgust me. It does, but not with you. You’re special.”
You’re special.
This time, it is Kenta who leans in first, trying to push his tongue past Kim's mouth. He wants to claim and take, afraid that this is the first and last time he can experience such pleasure ever again. He wants Kim to remember, he wants to bite and suck, to leave marks on Kim’s neck for everyone to see, but he’s not sure he is allowed to. So, he focuses on roaming his hands all over Kim’s body, engraving this moment deep inside his memory, so he can remember if he’s not allowed to have Kim this close ever again.
“K-Kenta, ah,” Kim shivers under his touch, his breath hitching. “We…, we have to go,” he continues, but doesn’t try to pull away from Kenta’s body.
“Eh, right. You wanted to eat, sorry,” Kenta tries to wiggle away, disappointed at the loss of touch.
“Let’s go, then. What do you want to eat?” he follows, going in the direction of the restaurants.
“Ehm, where do you think you’re going, Kenta?” Kim looks at him with suspicion.
“Ehm –.”
“You don’t really think we’re actually going to eat, right?”
“We aren’t?”
“The hell we aren’t. Let’s go back home. Because this,” he points in between the two of them, “isn’t finished.” He grabs Kenta by the wrist, dragging him to the direction of their apartment.
As soon as they enter the apartment, the door shuts loudly behind them. Kenta is being pinned against the wall and kissed by Kim again. This time Kenta can feel himself relax a bit, the familiar surroundings bringing him some degree of comfort to his otherwise loudly beating heart.
“I like you so much, Kenta,” Kim says as he bites and kisses the column of Kenta’s neck. Kenta shivers in pleasure, his brain trying to catch up with Kim’s confession and his own heart.
This can’t be true, am I dreaming?
The sensation of Kim’s touch makes him a blabbering mess, he wants to answer, he wants to tell Kim how much he craves this, but all that escapes Kenta’s lips are soft moans and murmurs.
“I want to stay with you like this forever, Kenta,” he continues. Kenta panics. Did I hear this right?
“F-forever?” Kenta mumbles quietly and Kim’s heart shatters hearing Kenta’s anxiety driven voice.
“Of course,” he says, caressing Kenta’s cheek. “Only if you want it too,” he adds, searching for Kenta’s eyes.
Kenta isn’t supposed to want, he isn’t allowed to crave, but there’s nothing he wishes for more than this, staying with Kim, forever.
“Yeah, I want it too,” he says firmly.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Kim replies with a smile, connecting their foreheads, their noses touching softly. “I really am.”
And Kenta finally feels relieved. Maybe he is allowed to dream after all.