Chapter Text
“Come dance with me?”
Only Maki’s pants that are still audible alongside the swoop of Jo’s guts hearing the no-context sentence.
The younger’s oversized tee is patched with sweat, clinging onto his back as he stooped down to catch his breath. His platinum blond hair is wet and floppy even after he’s cut it very shortly like two, three weeks ago.
(It was just fifteen days ago though, so, like a couple of weeks and an extra day. Jo feels extra pathetic counting it in his head, so he settles with two, three weeks. He’s an overthinker like that.)
But those thoughts couldn’t even keep his head away from the fact that Maki asked him to dance with him at 2 a.m. in the morning, in front of his studio.
Jo was half asleep with fingers holding three kinds of brushes on the left hand and an on-the-verge-of-falling palette on the right when he heard the knocking a minute before.
He’s not functioning.
“Come again.”
“Uh-oh, bad choice of words,” Maki fans his palm in front of his own face, like shooing away all the tangled thoughts. “Be my dance partner for tomorrow’s—wait, today’s evening class?”
Oh. That makes so much more sense. Jo feels all the swirly situation inside him calming down, though a dull little patch of disappointment stays for a second too long.
God, sometimes he hates being in love. It’s not like he expected anything, anyway.
Jo sighs as he scratches his nape. “What happened to Taki?”
“Called in sick like half an hour ago,” Maki answers, fast. “Food poisoning. Raw oyster. Rookie mistake—it’s literally summer.”
“Is he okay?”
“Probably. Most likely.” Maki stretches his neckline to flap it and create air. Jo tries to behave by keeping his gaze eye-level. “Harua’s the one who called. Calmly, I should add. And it’s from an unknown number. He’s probably calling from the ER.”
“So!” The change of tone suddenly alerts Jo, backing him off a step. “You down?”
Maki’s big eyes sparkle like a big puppy trying to insist his master to give him an extra treat. Jo gulps.
Maki is adorable. And when it’s 2 a.m. and you’re sleep deprived, it’s very easy to be swayed by this giant ball of cunning fluff.
Or maybe it’s just Jo.
Jo clings onto a sliver of his working thinking ability before replying. “I—“ he staggers as Maki just looks as hopeful as few seconds before. “You know I can’t do it.”
“Oh my God,” Maki screeches. “We’re talking about dancing, not some ghosts. You’re acting like dancing is Voldemort’s long lost distant cousin, dude,” Maki scoffs, trying to reprove his point. “You will be my teaching partner if you’re down. Of course I’d teach you some stuff before the class actually starts!”
“Which is…” Jo reflexively reaches for his backpocket, searching for his phone. No result. “Like, fifteen, sixteen hours from now?”
“Fourteen,” Maki gnash his teeth for a second. “But yeah, you’re Jojo, and I am me! We’ll do this just fine!”
Jo is taken aback. “You said you’re teaching at an evening class!”
“Dude, they’re five,” Maki looks at Jo with horror. “Any start after 4 p.m. can as well be a midnight class for them.”
Jo rubs his face not so gently as he exhales, a little bit frustrated at Maki, and very much frustrated at himself for not be able to just say no straight away.
It’s just grasshoppers and night noises now. Maki’s fingers move to comb the strands of his hair as the silence stretches. The movement catches Jo’s eyes.
Maki’s hair is wet, sweat still clings onto it. Jo can smell the scent—musky with a hint of freshness, very much him. His foot tapping the floor as always, like he never stops dancing. Jo gulps.
If Maki means that teaching him is letting Jo to see him like this for the hours they’re together, Jo isn’t very sure he’s gonna remember anything; hand placement and footwork and whatnot.
He has to. Just for this once. Saying no.
“I’m—“ Jo breaks the silence in hesitance. Maki looks up, eyes literally not stopping the sparkle. For fuck’s sake. Can he stop making this harder for Jo? “I don’t think I can.”
Maki slumps immediately. Jo swears he can see the puppy ears and tail droop. He blames his lack of sleep.
Yeah. Jo thinks. Just this once.
“I genuinely didn’t expect you to say no,” Maki mutters. He sounds so fucking small. That’s unfair given that he probably weighs a Jo plus another half. Jo would have to guess as it’s been years since he last carrying the boy up. “Now I should call Yuma-kun.”
No, wait. Wait. “Yuma-kun?”
“Yeah,” Maki’s hand reaches for the backpocket to take his phone. “Last resort since he’s a fucking pain to deal with at these hours. And he’s gonna make this a thing to remember for the rest of my life whenever he needs a favor, like, remember when I helped you with the kids when Taki’s throwing up everywhere or something.”
Maki’s nimble finger presses on the screen, clearly trying to make a call. Jo just stares dumbly with mouth half opens, and realizes that Maki is leaving when he put his phone onto his ear as he mouths I gotta go.
No. Wait. Yuma is a bit. Jo’s heart nearly drops when he thought he’s saying it out loud. He’s not. He’s trained not to. He’s in love with you.
All those monologue in Jo’s head translates out to a mere normal-strength grip to Maki’s wrist. Almost delicate, even. Just surprising, even to Jo. Maki jerks as he stops walking, looking at Jo with puzzled face.
“Jojo?” Maki lets out, his call cancelled when Jo takes a slight peek with the corner of his eye. “What’s up?”
Jo stares at his grip on Maki’s pale wrist.
Nothing’s up, really. He thinks. It’s just the thought of you dancing with someone who’s in love with you revolts me a bit. Since it’s not me.
Nothing translates out, this time. Just a stare, and seconds that stack up more and more; halting Maki from his job.
Ah. Jo hates being in love.
“I’m pretty sure he’s asleep, don’t wake him,” Jo squeaks a shitty attempt of justifying his puzzling action to make it seem like kindness. Not pretty, but it gets the job done. “I’ll do it.”
Jo’s feeling towards Maki has always been natural, if Jo’s being honest. It surprises no one. Like an of course I’ll be in love with him kind of revelation.
The younger boy lives next door. Chirpy, chatty, and warm with presence as huge as the sun. Always been brave and bright too, never batting an eye when it comes to taking risks. Bringing Jo along with him on sets of adventures with his small, pudgy hands that gives Jo no reason to say no.
Jo’s life has always had Maki in it that when Maki got his first boyfriend in 10th grade, it was sending Jo into a fucking limbo.
Jo knows that Maki is bisexual. Hell, Jo’s probably the first person that Maki came out to. The boyfriend part surprises literally no one as Maki grows up to be this fine, totally queer-coded theatre kid with charming personality and pretty, toothy smile that hypnotized everyone.
It’s just that he’s no longer the pudgy-handed boy with extra short hair that reeks sunlight who intertwined his little fingers with Jo’s to pull him around the neighborhood. Not really. Not when Jo realized that the boy received heart eyes wherever he steps. Not when Jo realized that the stage that he’s on gives him all the attention and love that he deserves, more than when he’s with Jo.
Not when he literally shines, like he’s on a pedestal.
And Jo is just Jo, who has too long of fucking limbs to function and too clumsy for his own good.
The breakup was just normal. Maki and his then-boyfriend separated over something that Jo didn’t really bother to remember. It was a didn’t-worked-out puppy love that Jo was overly happy in his head about. The guilt stayed for weeks. The guilt gave Jo a cruel realization on his feelings towards the boy, and along with it, the fact that he has to repress it for as long as he should to keep the priceless best friend badge.
Sometimes, Jo wishes that he’s not Maki’s best friend. Sometimes Jo wishes that he hadn’t knew the boy at all.
And in those sometimes, Jo took back his wishes so quickly—as he knows that deep down, nothing matters when Maki is happy with himself and his choices. Nothing. Even Jo’s feelings.
Even Jo.
God. Jo hates being in love with his best friend.
The grasshopper sounds are still there when Jo opened his eyes. Sunlight seeps from the gap of the curtains, hitting Maki’s face like a halo.
Ah, right. Maki was begging to sleep here last night. He was determined with sleeping on the sofa despite Jo saying that he could take the bed, though. Jo didn’t know why he’s here, looking like an angel in a deep sleep, long lashes gleaming as he breathes steadily with his whole body facing Jo.
Jo thinks that he’s the prettiest boy that Jo has ever seen.
Jo sighs. It’s going to be a long day today.