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There are times when Yudai wants to scream at people for looking at his boyfriend. Not in a way that is possessive, but out of frustration, because they keep misunderstanding him.
Just three hours ago, he heard two people talking about him in the gym’s shower room. It isn’t something bad. They discussed Fuma’s physiques—the muscles around his body and the workouts he must have done in order to get them. Yudai was happy at first, before one of them said, “I bet he doesn’t have any other hobbies than workin’ out! That body needs dedication, man.”
Wrong, wrong, wrong! Yudai screams inside. Wrong. Just wrong.
Yudai knows he doesn’t need to correct them. Yet the thought of someone mistaking his Pokémon-crazed boyfriend as a gym addict drives him crazy, especially now that it has happened multiple times. Before he could open the door, Fuma arrived from behind him first.
“I think I need a new storage box,” he announced, although the gym was empty and they were the only people in the hallway. “Can we go buy one after you wash up?”
Here they are now, in the middle of the IKEA parking lot, preparing to get out as Yudai gathers his things. He turns to Fuma, eyebrows knitted. “Do I have to ask why you need a new storage box?”
Fuma grins. “I got new Pokémon stuff.”
“Of course,” Yudai sighs, “so you’re rearranging your desk?”
“Kind of?” Fuma opens his door, shouting a little, “Let me open yours!” before jogging to Yudai’s side, holding his door open for him. “My lord.”
“Oi, you got to stop that,” Yudai protests, albeit with the blooming coral on his cheeks. He gets out of the driver’s seat, facing Fuma, whose bright smile fends away the light annoyance in Yudai’s heart. “Seriously.”
“You secretly like it when I do that, though,” Fuma teases. He takes Yudai’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers together. “I can see you blushing even from miles away.”
Fuma laughs when Yudai tries to jerk his hand from his grip, terribly failing as his boyfriend grips it even tighter. They walk together in tandem, hand in hand, talking about classes and what they had done today before meeting up at the gym. Yudai feels a similar annoyance prickling his skin, the mention of the gym reminding him of what people had said about his boyfriend. It isn't the first time, and Yudai is aware it wouldn't be the last either. He told Fuma about it once, but he shook it off and said, which Yudai remembers vividly, "People are always going to make assumptions. As long as the people around me know, it doesn't really matter."
It doesn't stop Yudai from feeling angry, still. He swallows the lump in his throat, squeezing Fuma's hand gently. "Are you okay?" Fuma asks.
"I'm fine," Yudai answers, a little too fast for it to be the truth. "I'm okay, just a little sore."
"You went a little too hard on yourself today."
"Did I?" Yudai laughs. "I didn't work out yesterday, I guess that's why."
Fuma's hand moves from his fingers to his right shoulder, massaging it delicately as they walk through the door. The staff passing by greets them. Fuma greets them back while Yudai smiles. "Welcome! Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Do you know—"
"May I ask where the massage chair is?"
Before Yudai can protest, the worker has already answered Fuma and walks past to guide them. Fuma smiles, pulling Yudai by the shoulder, urging him to walk.
"Why did you ask for a massage chair?"
"So you can relax a bit," Fuma whispers, "since you said you're sore. Why not?"
Yudai sighs. "Neither of us is going to buy it."
"Baby," Fuma calls, "it's important for the future. We'll never know."
If Fuma notices the flush on Yudai's cheeks, he does a great job at ignoring it. Fuma pays attention to the explanation from the worker, humming and nodding along. Yudai, on the other hand, keeps his focus on anything but the weight of Fuma's hand on his arms. It should have felt casual. It should have been nothing. They aren't a non-affectionate couple who never touch each other in public—they might have been the opposite. But the combination of the mention of a future together and Fuma's gentle touch lies heavily on Yudai's shoulders. He tenses with every touch, muttering curses under his breath at how easily he gets flustered around Fuma, even when they have been dating for over three years. Only when Fuma called his name did Yudai snap out of his reverie. He blinks. "Uhm, sorry?"
"She asked if you want to try it," repeats Fuma, little giggles leaving his mouth at the same time. "Come, sit."
Despite his grumbles, Yudai sits on the chair. It hugs him perfectly—not too cushiony to swallow him whole, but also not hard enough to make him want to stand up in an instant. Its black leather makes the chair look pretty expensive. He complies when the staff tells him to put his arms on the armrests. Once Yudai leans back, he notices little balls hidden behind the chair. The staff member smiles and, without saying anything, presses the remote.
Yudai has lost his attention completely when the machine begins to work. With his arms and back being worked on, he slowly transcended to heaven. The machine engulfs his arms in what feels like blissful touches—loosening all the knots and releasing tension from Yudai's body. God. Perhaps this is heaven. He sighs pleasantly, quiet moans escaping even though Yudai doesn't want them to. Yudai closes his eyes as he adjusts his position, giving Fuma the task of listening to the explanation while he allows himself to enjoy the machine.
It will be a difficult task to remember when Yudai last got a proper massage. For someone who works out and does a lot of physical activities, he isn't sure he gets the aftercare he should have. Yudai has always been too busy. He could never find the right time, and often would opt for Fuma's hands instead. But Fuma has always been scared of hurting him, so most of the knots in his muscles are left untouched. Maybe he should save his part-time money for a massage machine. One that wouldn't break like the one he randomly bought five months ago. Teaching choreographies makes quite a good amount of money, after all. If he just holds himself back for a few months—
"… afraid it won't fit the living room. Right, Honey?"
"Huh?"
Fuma's smile deepens as he catches Yudai opening his eyes. "The chair," he says, "I don't think it will fit in our apartment. What do you think?"
Is this the part where Yudai is supposed to play along? He shoots a subtle glare at Fuma, urging for more explanation, but his boyfriend merely smiles, switching stares between Yudai and the expectant staff. Yudai let out a long, frustrated sigh. Never let anyone predict Fuma's moves, he thinks, before answering with, "I think so, yeah. With the new sofa we just bought, we'll have to rearrange a few pieces first."
The impressed look on Fuma's face is enough to give Yudai a small amount of satisfaction. The staff replies, "There is a smaller one, if this one might be too big."
"It'll be better if we measure the living room and empty space first," responds Yudai. Although it feels heavy for his body to leave the chair, he forces himself up, clinging to Fuma's side once his feet touch the ground. "Right, Baby?"
"Yes, of course," says Fuma, voice serious and grim, "it'll be more efficient that way."
Yudai almost fails to hold his giggles if Fuma doesn't link their arms together. They both decide to walk away after expressing their gratefulness for the staff, and after Yudai is certain they have disappeared from her earshot, he says, "What was that?"
"Practice?" Fuma offers, which earns a scowl from Yudai.
"You were just being silly."
"Partly," admits Fuma, "but it seems like the right thing to do at IKEA. To play husbands."
"Won't people notice that neither of us is wearing rings?"
"Oh my God, Honey, how could you?" Fuma gasps. "That 24 karat gold ring should be with you all the time!"
"I want to make sure it's safe," says Yudai, "that's why I don't wear it. What if it fell down and got stuck somewhere? That's not good!"
Fuma leads the two of them to one of the dining room sets available. It could fit four people—probably perfect for a family of four. The chairs and table are made from wood, and from afar, Yudai notices there are plates and utensils on the table. A vase with flowers stands tall in the middle. He can't help but admire the neat decorations. When they walk closer, Yudai finds out the decorations are made from paper. With the number of children that can be found in IKEA, Yudai doesn't wonder.
"You're always like this," chides Fuma. Yudai scowls even though he doesn't catch any vehemence from his boyfriend's voice. He looks at him with an are-we-continuing-the-bit? stare and Fuma answers with a slight nod, pulling one of the chairs, landing forcibly on it. "If you weren't so clumsy, maybe we wouldn't have to be worried 'bout that."
"What? So now it's my fault?" Yudai snaps. "How is being careful my fault?"
"I should've gotten a cheaper ring," Fuma says wearily. He puts one hand under his chin, adding, "Then, you would've worn it wherever and whenever. So people will know you're married."
Yudai sits across from him, hands crossed on his chest. "Just tattoo the word married on my forehead or whatever."
"That sounds like a good idea."
"Hey!"
Fuma laughs. "You suggested it, Baby. I was just agreeing."
"You weren't supposed to be a yes-man," Yudai muttered. "Let's get that storage box already. I'm hungry."
"What kind of husband am I, letting my husband go hungry?" In a second, Fuma stands up, walking towards the kitchen area near the dining set, despite Yudai's frantic attempt to stop him. "Should we rebel a little and eat pancakes for dinner?" He gives Yudai a look and adds, "Uh-oh. You stay away from the kitchen, Baby. Let me cook for you."
If it wasn't for the nearly empty IKEA, Yudai would have stopped Fuma and dragged him out of the store. But it's quiet—there is no one around them, save for the few staff who are busy talking with each other. They just finished exam week this afternoon, and playing husbands feels like the best way to let the steam off, although Yudai is sure he has let most of it off at the gym earlier. "Fine. But I'm expecting a five-star course meal, 'kay?"
"Anything for you, Munchkin."
"Don't" —Yudai rubs his face roughly— "say that. Don't call me that."
"Aww, are you embarrassed?" Fuma coos. "Don't you like it when I call you that?"
"Not in public."
"So now you want to keep our relationship hidden?"
"Don't twist my words like that!"
Fuma weakly slams the wooden spoon on the kitchen island. Yudai begins to wonder if he is dating an actor disguised as a college student, because at this point, Fuma is doing a little bit too good at acting like a stressed-out husband. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling loudly. Yudai gulps. Why does he look even more attractive when he's fake angry? Over the years Yudai has known him, that is, three years and a few months, give and take, he has never seen Fuma angry. Frustated, maybe, but never enraged, and never at him. Fuma is not a saint, that much Yudai knows. Yet he has always tried his best to be a gentle and loving boyfriend who would talk with him through difficult conversations. He seldom lets Yudai go to sleep with a heavy heart and speaks softly even when they are in the middle of an argument. Seeing him like this—eyebrows knitted, hair a little messy, mumbling things Yudai can't hear—is moving something in him.
"Is it weird that I think you look hot right now?"
At that, Fuma laughs. "A little."
Yudai lets Fuma grab his waist once he is within his reach. He combs Fuma's hair with his fingers, playing slightly with the ends. "I kinda want to kiss you."
"In IKEA? Really?" Fuma cocks an eyebrow. "Thought you're not big on kissing in public."
Yudai smiles. He cups his cheeks, inching closer with every word he says. Somehow, he realizes how Fuma's face fits perfectly between his hands. "Public?" he whispers. "But we're in our kitchen, Baby."
The ghost of a smile haunts Fuma's lips before he leans in, pulling Yudai close by the waist. The height difference between them doesn't really matter when Yudai lightly bends his back, allowing Fuma to deepen the kiss. It is quick—the kind of kiss you would do in public, risking the stares of people watching, but long enough to make Yudai's heart bloom with a mixture of love and joy. Fuma smiles into the kiss before breaking it off, grinning widely when their eyes meet.
"I think I just fell for you again."
"You always say that," Yudai jokes. He pushes Fuma's chest gently. "I can't even remember how many times you've said that."
"That's because it's true. I mean it, you know," he pauses to give a little peck on Yudai's lips, "every time I say it."
I know, Yudai thinks, but doesn't say out loud. There are a thousand reasons why he loves Fuma, but one of the strong ones is the way he likes to make Yudai feel loved. It seems as if Yudai has become a character Fuma has long understood, to the point he doesn't need to read any guide to read him. Fuma knows his ticks, what he likes, his habits. He takes care of him in a way that doesn't make him feel burdened. Often, Yudai ponders if it shows that he loves Fuma as much as he loves him. Fuma's impromptu confessions become an answer. Yudai smiles, brushing their noses together. "Let's get some food. I'm hungry."
Fuma holds his waist as he brings himself up. "Do you want to eat here?"
"Sure, since it's empty," Yudai answers. He encases Fuma's hand with his own. "I think I'll order the meatball."
"That's a good amount of protein."
"And carbs," Yudai mentions.
He jumps when Fuma brings his hand to his lips, kissing the palm gently. "But we need to get my storage box first."
"Is buying a new Pokémon collection really necessary?"
"Baby," Fuma sighs, "I tried to hold myself back."
"Well, you're not trying hard enough."
"Yudai, please. Know your place."
"You—hey!" he shouts when Fuma lets go of his hand and laughs while jogging away. "Don't run off!"
☆
Yudai met Fuma in the library when he was 21 and Fuma was 20. He was looking for a quiet place to watch the choreography videos his seniors sent him, and originally chose the library because he thought it'd be empty. To his unfortunate surprise, the library was buzzing with students who thought the same.
He had forgotten that it was the beginning of exam week. People go to the library when exam week arrives—like moths to a flame or ants to sweets. Yudai was on the verge of going home when he caught an empty spot on the corner of the third floor.
It was not really empty. A student sat on one of the chairs, but the other wasn't occupied. Yudai didn't miss the chance to walk up to him. The third floor was more peaceful than the other floors since the books it had were the ones most students deemed boring. Yudai tapped the stranger on the shoulder, asking, "Hey, is it okay if we share the table?"
He was greeted by the sweetest smile he had ever seen.
Now, he is 24, Fuma is 23, and his smile is still the sweetest smile Yudai has ever seen. It hasn't been long, but Yudai is pretty confident that three years should have at least roughened things up a little. Yet there Fuma is, a constant kindness amidst the hostile things life hurls at him. Everything about him remains the same despite puberty hitting him multiple times. He is still as sweet, as kind, and as Pokémon-crazed—if not even more—than three years ago.
Fuma can talk about Pokémon for hours, and Yudai is willing to listen for the same duration. He smiles as he takes note of Fuma's never-ending explanation, nodding his head along, although Yudai is more interested in the way his boyfriend speaks with a child-like wonder than the topic itself. He smiles absent-mindedly, reaching for Fuma's fingers. They are sitting across from each other, just the way they prefer, if they know a lot of talking will be involved. This way, Yudai can see Fuma's face and vice versa, while still holding hands.
He doesn't realize Fuma is smiling at him until he feels a tug on his fingers. "Are you feeling better?"
"What?" Yudai looks up. "What do you mean?"
"You looked sullen while driving," answers Fuma. He fills in the spaces between Yudai's fingers with his own, doing it naturally, like how he occupied the empty space in Yudai's life. "How about now?"
It doesn't surprise him that Fuma notices. Not when he always notices every small thing about Yudai. "I do, yeah."
"Did people talk about me again?" asks Fuma. "Seems like they've been doing it a lot, huh?"
"I know they weren't trying to be mean," says Yudai. He bites the inside of his cheeks, continuing, "I just … it just feels wrong, you know. The way they see you."
"I can't force people to see me in a certain way." Fuma smiles. He brushes Yudai's fringes gently, thumb patting the side of his cheeks. "It doesn't really matter, anyway. What matters most is yours, and our friends, too."
Despite his attempt to keep a blank face, Yudai pouts. He knows Fuma would say this. He predicts this, so he shouldn't have been disappointed or sad. But it is hard to put an end to the frustration of people seeing Fuma in a different way from him, which isn't inherently bad, yet it frustrates him still. "You're more than just someone who is obsessed with working out."
"What matters is you realize I'm not."
"Of course I don't. I know you."
"And I know you, and I don't really know them, so that's why."
"You're too nice."
"No, Baby." Fuma brings Yudai's hand near his mouth, saying, "You're too kind."
Halting the heat creeping up his face is a hard task that Yudai tends to fail miserably when Fuma says things sincerely with affection that comes out through words and physically. It is as if Fuma wants him to melt into his palms, kissing Yudai's hand tenderly while uttering the most genuine words the world has probably ever heard. "I'm always curious about how you see me."
"Do you want to switch souls for a second?"
"This isn't a movie," Yudai laughs, "you silly."
Fuma follows along with a laugh. He pecks Yudai's hand one more time. "But you are kind, Love. You stress out for me even when they don't directly affect you. Isn't that kindness?"
"I don't just do that to everyone," denies Yudai, "only you."
"That doesn't mean you're not kind."
"Well, but only because it's you. That's why I care."
"That still means you're kind."
"Of course I'd be kind to someone I love," Yudai retorts. "Why are you trying to argue with me?"
"Just to get you to admit that you love me," Fuma chuckles, "and you fell for it."
"You're so annoying," he scoffs, all endeared and no anger. Their hold tightened, and Yudai says, "But that's what I like from you."
"That I'm annoying?"
"Mhm," Yudai hums. Maybe it is because of the sentiment bleeding into the atmosphere, or it is caused by Fuma's hopeful stare, accompanied by a mischievous glint in his eyes, but the words stream from his mouth like an unstoppable force. "And that you are kind, and gentle, and sweet, and patient, and also very Pokémon-crazed. It's basically your legacy now."
For a second, Fuma stays quiet. He looks at Yudai—scanning his face, looking like he is searching for a sign of anything, which Yudai assumes is a lie. He closes his eyes and leans into the hand on his cheek. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks. Yudai flutters his eyes as he opens it slowly. "Something on my face?"
"Just wondering how lucky I am to be able to live this life with you."
Yudai turns his face, leaving a chaste kiss on Fuma's palm. "With those mentions of a future together, I'm afraid you'll be with me for a long time. Don't start regretting it now."
Their eyes meet when Fuma cups Yudai's cheeks. He pushes his chair away, and half of his body hovers over the table. "I think I'd be too happy to even regret anything," he whispers before crashing his lips into Yudai's, swallowing him whole with every breath, leaving nothing but an unnecessary breadth between them. Yudai can feel Fuma gradually forming a smile against his lips, breaking their kiss only when Yudai starts to back up. "I love you," he mumbles, giving Yudai's lips one last kiss. "And Pokémon will be my legacy."
Fondness blooms in Yudai like the flowers in spring. He suppresses the incoming grin, faking annoyance in its stead, shaking his head. "I think we need to discuss that first."
"We've got plenty of time," Fuma says, and it sounds like a promise to Yudai's ears. "Don't we?"
He looks at their hands, entwined again after only a few minutes of separation. Yudai gives Fuma a little squeeze. "Yeah," he replies, "we have all the time in the world."