Work Text:
To say that the night was wild is an understatement.
Aya, Mitsuki, and their friends decided it was a good idea to drink at Mao’s apartment to celebrate the end of their third year. They all agreed it would be a chill, relaxing night, where they could just gossip and unpack everything that happened all throughout their third year in the different universities they were in, but oh boy, were they wrong.
After a few hours of debriefing, karaoke, drinking games, crying, and Uno (with a friendship almost broken), they had already finished a whole bottle of tequila and a few bottles of Smirnoff, and were ready to pass out on the bed, couch, or hell, even the floor. That was, until Narita pulled out another bottle of tequila from his bag with a big, menacing grin on his face.
But who were they to decline? They barely have the opportunity to see each other and have a small reunion like the one they’re having, since they study at different universities (except for Aya and Mitsuki) and have a hectic, packed, hellish schedule. Their schedules don’t align, either, since Aya and Mitsuki’s university followed a trimestral calendar, while the rest followed a semestral calendar. It was a miracle that this mini reunion had pushed through.
So without any hesitation, they popped the bottle open and made sure that no drop was wasted.
And the rest of the night was a blur.
Aya doesn’t know how she ended up sleeping on the beanbag, with half of her body resting on top, and the other half on the hard floor. She tried to move, just slightly, to find a comfortable position, but her lower half was numb, and in a split second, a lingering, pricking pain shot up her spine.
So she decided to stay in that position until that uncomfortable feeling was gone. She stared blankly at the ceiling, the room dimly lit by the moonlight passing through the creaks of the curtains, while trying to recall what the hell had happened a few hours ago.
But she noticed the difference in temperature between her upper and lower body. Her upper body was warm; meanwhile, the other was the opposite, and she could feel the cold air of the apartment breeze in the fabric of her jeans, making her shiver.
It’s weird. She knows she’s wearing a cropped, baby tee, so why is her upper body warm?
[A/N: cue the music: https://open.spotify.com/track/7LbUv7w2z7rEbNqp1uIL9U?si=K6gAqLotR2u8zvnmv6-SYw]
With her mind still half-asleep and her body still influenced by alcohol, her gaze drifted to her arms. She could barely see her hands, and a thick, black fabric covered her. That’s weird. Where are her—
…
That scent…
Mitsuki’s perfume?
…
And then it hit her.
She was wearing Mitsuki’s hoodie.
It was like she sobered up right away when she got a whiff of the perfume, and a ridiculous number of questions came rushing into her mind.
What? How? When? Where? Why?
And as if it would help her recall her drunken actions, she stared back at the ceiling. Harder. Her eyes squinted, her cheeks flushed, her mind working overtime to try and remember.
But nothing came to mind.
Stumped, she asked herself, once again, why? Why would Mitsuki give her his hoodie? Why her? Why not Mao? Or Chizuru? Or Narita? Why are her cheeks warmer than they were a few minutes ago? Why is her heart beating so fast?
Her curiosity and overthinking made her miss the music playing in the background through the speaker Mao brought.
It was slow and soft, yet melancholic and bittersweet. The rhythm soothed her beating heart, and the lyrics were muffled, not until she paid attention to the music.
Don't you see me I
I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you
And don't you need me I
I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you
On this night, and in this light
I think I'm falling (I think I'm falling), I'm falling for you
And maybe you, change your mind.
And for a moment, she didn’t know if her heart was pounding because of the bass of the music, or if it was because of something she’s been too scared to admit to herself.
A feeling she’s been avoiding for so, so long.
She shifted her position, her body now sideways and facing the couch. Her eyes met with Mitsuki’s figure, lying down on the couch, breathing steadily and calmly with his eyes closed. Since when did Mitsuki look this… Gentle? Calm? Endearing?
She sat up and studied Mitsuki’s features; she noticed how his chest was heaving up and down with every steady breath, how his face twitched ever so slightly as the moonlight hit his eyes through the creaks of the curtain, how his hair draped on his face messily yet so… beautifully… and Aya felt a soft pang in her chest.
She didn’t realize how close her face was to his.
But she didn’t pull away.
Instead, she tucked the stray hair behind Mitsuki’s ear, gently enough not to wake him up. But her sudden action made her freeze.
Is this normal to do as friends?
Well, are they just friends?
For the past years, Aya knew there was something different about the way Mitsuki treated her. Holding her hand while walking, sending playlists to each other, and sharing earphones in class… That’s not something that mere friends would do, right?
But aside from all of that, it was the way that Mitsuki looked at her. He looked at her with such… admiration, gentleness, warmth, and most of all, love. He looked at her as if the world would stop if he ever saw her cry. He looked at her as if she were the most important thing in his life.
But the thing is, Mitsuki hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t confessed anything. So, Aya’s been convincing herself that she’s not, in any way, falling for Mitsuki.
Until today.
And she knows she’s screwed.
She doesn’t know if it was the alcohol in her system or if it was her genuine emotions, but her eyesight blurred, her eyes brimming with tears.
“I’m so confused, Mitsuki,” Aya whispered with a shaky breath, even if she knew Mitsuki couldn’t hear her. “If you like me, just say it— God damn it, you’re confusing me.”
She brought her hands to her eyes, wiping her tears away. “You act normal, even after the way you treat me. I know we’re close friends, but the way you look at me… You never looked at anyone else like that. And you don’t even realize that I’ve already…”
She trailed off with her last few words, unsure if she should continue her sentence, but even if she didn't and if Mitsuki had heard her, he'd know what she meant.
Then, she let out a soft scoff— she felt pathetic. She wanted Mitsuki to hear her, but she was too much of a coward to even tell her up front and sober. “Who am I kidding? You can’t hear me, anyway.”
She stood up from her seat, wanting to get some fresh air outside on the balcony to hopefully clear her mind.
But something stopped her.
Something, or someone, pulled her down.
And in the blink of an eye, she fell.
On the couch.
With her lips pressed against someone’s.
Mitsuki’s.
Her eyes were wide open in shock. The kiss was short, and even after Mitsuki pulled away, she stayed there, frozen, still not processing what the hell had happened.
Am I still fucking drunk?
Does alcohol make you hallucinate?
No, maybe I'm dreaming--
“Did you mean all of that?”
Mitsuki’s question made her snap out of her trance.
“Wh—what?”
He sat up from his position, and Aya’s body moved on its own, giving him space. Yet, their faces were still less than an inch apart.
“Everything you said,” Mitsuki mumbled, his eyes locking with Aya’s. It was obvious he was trying to keep his composure, but even in the dim light of the moonlight, his pink-flushed cheeks were evident. “Are you… really falling for me?”
For a minute, Aya was painfully silent, not because of the sudden question, but because of how close they were. She could feel his warm breath tickle her skin. She could see herself in the reflection of his eyes. But then her gaze went to his lips, and all she wanted to do at that moment was reach out and cup his face to pull him in for another kiss. His lips were soft, and she craved that softness more than anything now that she felt it against hers.
It took her a while, but his question finally registered in her brain.
Aya furrowed her eyebrows. The audacity of you to ask…
Her hand shot out, hitting his shoulders playfully but carefully enough not to actually hurt him. Sure, she's acting all tough and upset in front of Mitsuki, but oh god, she'll explode in embarrassment any minute now. And she's pretty sure he can see how red her face is.
"Ow-- Hey! What was that for?" Mitsuki flinched, rubbing the spot Aya had just hit, as if the impact was that hard. A small (and cute) pout formed on his lips, and Aya just wanted to pinch him then and there.
"You weren't supposed to hear that!" Aya said, her voice a mix of whisper and yelling. She covered her face with her hands with a loud slap, panicking in embarrassment. She was mumbling a bunch of nonsense that Mitsuki couldn't hear, probably because of her muffled mouth, but the hint of panic in her voice was evident. She's lost it.
"Are you drunk? I hope you're still drunk. Oh my god. Will you remember this tomorrow? I hope not. I hope I'm dreaming. Holy fuck. That was so fucking embarrassing--"
"Aya."
And with Mitsuki just calling out her name, her world stopped, and so did her heartbeat. Since when did her name sound nice whenever Mitsuki says it?
Just as Aya was about to fall into another trance, she realized she hadn't answered his question.
She wanted to. She wanted to pour her heart out. She wanted to tell him everything she had bottled up and denied to herself. She wanted to tell him those three words she's been meaning to tell him-- but she couldn't. No words came out of her mouth. Her throat was dry, and she was tongue-tied.
But... why would she tell him?
When she could just show him?
Aya hesitated at first, but she built up the courage to bring her hands to cup his cheeks. Her thumbs caressed his cheeks gently, lovingly, as if soothing Mitsuki's thoughts-- as if she was already answering his question, but she figured that wasn't enough.
Slowly, Aya leaned in, her face merely a few centimeters away from Mitsuki's. She looked at his lips, then at his eyes, longingly, but she didn't kiss him right away.
She was giving him space to leave if he wasn't sure about everything-- about her.
But she felt his arms pull her closer to him, and that was all the reassurance that Aya needed.
So, she crashed her lips onto his, and he didn't even think twice to kiss her back, gentle but sure, passionate and reassuring.
In that moment, their minds, which were booming with uncertainties and questions like the bass of a song, calmed down. No words needed to be said, not when everything was already there, in the way they held each other.