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Atsushi had been a ray of sunshine that day. He looked nobody in the eye, answered to nobody’s questions and gave one single wave to Kyoka before disappearing after his shift.
Happy witness of their interaction, Tachihara leaned on her shoulder.
- What a jerk, right? What’s gotten into him, he’s usually less of a killjoy!
- A year ago, our boss jumped off the building.
- O-oh is that… is that why Chuuya didn’t show up?
Tachihara awkwardly left the scene under the girl’s frigid gaze. He was definitely crying to Gin about this.
***
Akutagawa had been an angel that day. He’d scrapped each and every file that’d been given to him, called clients all too accurate names and kept the same furious look.
- ‘’Really, the boy should watch his manners, we’ve all had bad days’’, stated Kunikida.
- ‘’I don’t know, I feel like he’s got something really big on his mind… maybe his sister again?’’ hazarded Tanizaki.
- ‘’Whatever he’s got, I’m sure I could fix him right up’’, diagnosed Yosano.
- ‘’Maybe it’s something he ate?’’ prompted Kenji
Ranpo, having finished his bag of sour candy, kindly offered his expertise:
- ‘’You’re all idiots! A year ago today, his ‘’man in black’’ died in front of him and his friend. Really, you all should have noticed that he’s been scribbling stickmen on his files today: he’s thinking of people. You’re welcome. Kenji, get me another bag of those!’’
***
Atsushi HAS been moving on. Mori’s pep talk worked, the orphanage isn’t such a scary place anymore and the young man is so grateful for it all. But that day, he felt like shit.
He’d seen his mood coming, he’d watched the day come on the calendar, and tried to convince himself that he didn’t care. Something about caring about that man felt a little too similar to the way he cared (and still somewhat does) about the headmaster.
But Kyoka suggested that it might be ok to grieve a lost friend and that he’d been doing so much to get better. And that was his pass to get a drink tonight.
***
Akutagawa had made it a point to not obsess over such silly things as The Man in Black or even Gin anymore. He’d effectively made it an obsession to not obsess over anything, and everything was going for the best at his workplace. But today he was unbelievably angry.
He sat at his desk trying to understand where the wrath came from. Was he sick? On his period? Was he tired of writing reports? (yes) Was he mad that he did not get to kill The Man in Black? Was he frustrated about that nonsensical babbling over a ‘’Book’’? Was he unable to get rid of the memory of that mafioso’s face when he begged for death?... He needed a drink.
***
Akutagawa should have expected this. Obviously, out of every single bar in Yokohama, the one he picked was the one Atsushi Nakajima picked.
The bell that sang at his entrance covered up the gasp (quickly substituted for a scoff) he let out when he noticed the man sitting at the bar. This was insulting. The one night he felt like going out for frivolous reasons, a wet cat had to get in the way. He thought of leaving, but this was his favorite bar. The Weretiger wouldn’t change that.
He sat next to the intruder, one chair between them. Force of habit. After ordering his drink, he quickly evaluated Atsushi’s state. He’d barely seen him in the last year.
They’d exchanged one or two letters about potential discoveries they’d made on ‘’The Book’’, met like twice when the Ada opposed the Mafia, but hadn’t talked otherwise. He didn’t remember him looking THIS pathetic.
His appearance was the same. His hair had been kept at the same length (probably more efficient for combat), his taste in clothing didn’t seem to have changed (his coat wasn’t soaked in rain this time) and his body, well his muscle mass, well his constitution hadn’t varied.
No, what hit Akutagawa was the man’s grip on the drink before him. He seemed to be halfway through, and visibly it was not helping. He stared at the air with lines for pupils and looked ready to flip off whoever acknowledged him.
It wasn’t a bad look for him, thought Akutagawa while receiving his own drink.
***
Atsushi could feel Akutagawa side eyeing him from his chair. Did he think he was being subtle?
He’d seen the guy take a seat from the side of his own eye and had been completely paralysed by the irony. He was taking a drink to FORGET about his grief and was now being effectively REMINDED of it by the mere existence of the person sat next to him.
But he honestly didn’t even have the energy to be mad about it. And it’s not like Akutagawa was doing anything wrong. Well, he could have taken another seat. Or not. This seat made more sense. Point is that this was a public space, and, from experience, Akutagawa wasn’t bad company when he wasn’t throwing blades in every possible direction.
Plus, behind his tie, he didn’t look to be in a much better mood than Atsushi was. His forehead must’ve been hurting from arching his brows so much, and his breaths sounded like successive exasperated sighs. Something told the mafioso that Akutagawa was there for the same reason he was.
***
Akutagawa received his second drink. He gave the barman a nod and waited a little before taking a sip. He was not drunk already, but he wasn’t known for holding his alcohol very well. And he didn’t want to get fully drunk anyways, not with the Weretiger around. He wasn’t acting hostile, but one’s better safe than sorry. So he was taking it slow.
He was in the middle of a ceremonious sip when Atsushi’s voice made him nearly choke.
- So what’s up?
What do you mean ‘’What’s up’’. I did not give you the right to talk to me. Oh, what is it, do you have another picture for me?
Akutagawa could have snapped, but his drink was whispering such soothing things like ‘’I’m too tired for this’’ and ‘’He’s the only one who’ll get it’’.
- Nothing much. Work in the Agency. Reports.
He took a small pause, looked at the bubbles in his glass. Gave up.
- What brings you here?
Atsushi didn’t answer right away, he knew the question was weighted. They both knew what day this was and, from the bar in front of them, it affected both of them in a somewhat similar way.
He then came to the conclusion that neither of them wanted to fucking talk about that.
- Felt like it. I haven’t been going out much; work can be a lot.
Atsushi didn’t seem to have any intention of going on about his deceased boss. Akutagawa was honestly relieved. He knew they’d had different opinions on the man, and he didn’t want to pick a fight with alcohol in his blood. He nodded.
- Hm.
Akutagawa had NO idea what to say.
It was visibly his turn to bring something up, but, besides his occupation and extremely personal details about his childhood, he knew NOTHING of Atsushi Nakajima. He knew too much and too little.
What do you even ask someone when you FEEL like you know them by heart but can’t prove it? Atsushi had started this conversation; it was his own responsibility to continue it, right?
But something about the tiger was so non-threatening right now. He seemed strangely relaxed. Well. He’d seen him in a better mood the first time they’d talked, but he was definitely calmer than that time he repeatedly slammed Akutagawa on that one roof. This was a nice in-between.
And again, Aku’s heart seemed to get lighter with each sip of his glass. He talked.
- Do you read much?
That startled Atsushi, but he was starting his third drink, and the question was pretty fun. He giggled and thought a little.
- I think I do, yes! It’s pretty much all there was to do at the orphanage, and I’ve kept the habit. I used to be a real bookworm!
- Hm, we didn’t have access to books much, but I got my hands on whatever I could read. I’m getting to read more lately.
- Ooh so you want recommendations? I’m very into symbolic stuff so I’ve read lots of short stories.
- Short stories sound great.
- Ok, so…
This was FUN. Atsushi hadn’t laughed in weeks, yet right now he just couldn’t stop giggling. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was Akutagawa’s face when the Weretiger accidentally spoiled him the ending of a CLASSIC. He’d spat insults for a minute and moved on to recommend obscure books about tortured artists and hungry people.
Atsushi leaned on his hand and listened to each word. Akutagawa was smiling. He noticed the man usually kept his eyes shut when smiling. He’d adopt a more neutral expression when locking eyes with him, then close them again when the subject interested him to the point of smirking.
He’s pretty sure he’d seen him smile with his eyes open before, but it was in the ‘’this guy’s trying to kill me and he’s way too happy about it’’ context. Man, that was a long time ago.
- Hey, are you even listening to me?
- Huh what-
- Tsk. I was asking you what your favourite insect is.
Atsushi’s eyes were round. He’d clearly zoned out in the middle of Akutagawa’s rant about the way insects are treated in the media. What a moron.
Now, he was staring at him like a cat you’d sprayed with water. Yellow and purple surprise swinging in his gaze. His white hair was getting messy; he seemed to have a habit of passing his hand through it whenever he laughed. So he’d ‘’fixed’’ his hair a lot tonight. It didn’t look bad. It was nice actually. About the same as that time it was covered in dust and blood.
The alcohol was making Akutagawa nostalgic.
Akutagawa was pouting at Atsushi. He looked annoyed by his lack of attention. He stared through his dark eyelashes, cheeks slightly flushed by the alcohol. It was a sight to behold.
But Atsushi got a hold of himself:
- My favourite bug? I’ve never thought about that, uh…
- You look like you’d enjoy Armadillidiidae.
- What?
- Rolly pollies.
- Oh, are those the little guys that roll up when they’re scared? I love those! You’re right, they’re probably my favourites.
- Hm! They say people and their favourite insect are often alike.
- What’s that supposed to mean?
Akutagawa snorted and had to cough to avoid choking on his drink. He… he was getting dizzy.
And what was Atsushi doing now. He’d gotten on the chair right next to him and clumsily arranged it so it was facing Akutagawa’s side.
Aku decided to throw in a bit of effort and made a pivot in order to face Atsushi. He pressed his shoulder against his chair’s back to hold himself up.
- Akutagawa.
- Atsushi.
- You look like you’re a spider kinda guy.
- THEY’RE ARACHNIDS
- OK JESUS DON’T YELL
- I suppose you could say I enjoy spiders, although I could not pick a favourite bug. I might lean towards flies though.
- Huh. I guess they’re cute.
- They make excellent pets.
- You’d keep a fly as a pet?
- You wouldn’t?
Akutagawa’s head felt so so heavy. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it forced him to lean more and more towards his drinking partner. He struggled to keep his back straight (which he usually always did) and it became tempting to just… give in?
Atsushi was getting pleasantly dizzy. He hadn’t planned on getting very drunk, but this was just right. Plus, the conversation was oh so fun, he had so much to say and hear.
But it was getting hard keeping his hands to himself. He wasn’t trying to pick a fight or anything, Akutagawa just had the effect of a pretty dog you just HAVE to pet. Right now, at least.
Every time their eyes met, Atsushi had to hold himself back; he wanted to cup the man’s pale face in his hands, draw an imaginary line over his nose, maybe play with his hair… And those were horrifying thoughts. That guy tried to kill him 365 days ago. He could NOT look him in the eyes.
- Hey, hey Atsushi
- What
- Atsushi’s a good name
‘’Atsushi’’ had a nice taste. It tasted like alcohol and sugar. Mostly like alcohol.
Aku didn’t quite have the words to explain that right now, though. So much thinking. His heavy head fell forward. His cheek brushed against Atsushi’s before landing on the man’s chest. It was covered by that tightly fitted shirt he’d worn the year before. How soft.
Atsushi’s reaction time was catastrophic right now. He looked down. Considered the head he’d have crushed a year ago and finally let his hands run free. They played with Akutagawa’s hair who whispered nonsense for a few minutes.
- …Are you crying?
Asked Atsushi without opening his eyes.
- I’m not crying.
Answered Akutagawa, crying.
His body was softly shaken by quiet sobs. Getting his hair played with was a lot right now, he supposed. And maybe:
- I miss my sister.
Atsushi was leaning back in his chair. He looked up at the ceiling. The warm lights were blurry. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like losing Kyoka.
- She misses you too.
- Is she happy?
- She seems to be. You know, ever since you broke into the building, she’s been pushing to have a less paper-work related job. We found out she’s good with knives.
- She’ll get hurt.
- …
- …You’re right. She’ll be fine.
Akutagawa carefully sat back up. This was embarrassing. But he SAID he wasn’t crying. Crisis adverted, right?
- Man, your sister has a way of ruining the moment.
Akutagawa’s eyes widened: he laughed (well, happily coughed) and called for more drinks.
***
They’d stopped counting the drinks a long time ago. Atsushi assured he could pay, the mafia paid well, Akutagawa told him money didn’t suit him, Atsushi told him to fuck off.
Atsushi got dizzier, Akutagawa’s head got heavier, the bar’s clientele changed thrice around them.
Akutagawa declared Atsushi hit like a girl and added he was allowed such remarks: he’d been a girl once. Atsushi asked if that explained his pretty eyes. Akutagawa didn’t hear that, Atsushi did not repeat.
At some point, Atsushi gave up on taming his paws; they’d gotten a taste, and he couldn’t hold them anymore. He used every excuse to put his hands on Aku’s shoulders, he asked about his hands, took them in his, innocently rested a hand on the man’s knee. They were talking touching was literally part of talking.
Akutagawa fought the crushing weight of his entire body. He successively leaned against his chair, rested his head on his hand, gratefully let Atsushi hold his hands for him. Atsushi’s constant touching was getting frustrating: just hold me at this point.
- Let’s get out.
- What?
- Mmh go outside.
- Uhh I haven’t read ‘’Outside’’ no, what is that
It’s about you taking me out of here. Akutagawa stood up.
- Dude you’re gonna fall.
- I won’t fall.
He fell; Atsushi caught him and dragged him (and himself) out of the establishment. The night was fresh. Not freezing, just cold.
They decided this was the perfect weather for a walk, so they stumbled for about three meters before ending up against the bar’s wall, in the small street neighboring it.
Atsushi held Akutagawa up against the cold wall. The man couldn’t take a step without his help, much less stand up. He seemed happy though.
- Atsushi, Atsushi I thought your name tasted like alcohol, but it’s- it’s simply because I drank alcohol and… so I thought…
Atsushi giggled; that made so much sense right now. Oh, but Akutagawa must have been so so cold against that wall.
- You should close your coat
- It doesn’t close
- Bullshit, let me
Atsushi’s hands were warm against Akutagawa’s neck while he fiddled with the coat. It tickled, Aku gasped and giggled, coughed at little.
Akutagawa’s neck was cold against Atsushi’s hands.
He cared less and less about the coat; he kept looking up at the man. He had to lean against his partner to not fall over himself. They were pressed up against the wall with only the smell of alcohol between their faces.
Akutagawa half opened his eyes. He’d stopped laughing; the air seemed to catch in his throat. He looked down at the Weretiger.
- This is like last year
- Oh I wanted you dead
- I wanted you dead and buried
- Akutagawa, I dreamt of crushing you
- I dreamt of eating you alive
Atsushi’s pupils widened.
The gap between them vanished. Their mouths pressed against one another, lips sliding over each other, small clouds of mist escaped their mouths from time to time, along with slight moans.
Atsushi slid his hand behind Akutagawa’s head in order to press it against the wall without hurting him.
He kept his other hand for the waist; oh, the waist. Akutagawa’s suspender got in the way: he unclipped it. He couldn’t decide whether to push on his waist with his own hips or to pull it closer; he went for both, slowly alternating. Slowly being the keyword, he was so dizzy.
Akutagawa let Atsushi do whatever he pleased. Everything he did was perfect.
One hand huddled in his hair, another one on his waist, then his hip, then his waist.
Akutagawa first tried to play with Atsushi’s soft, soft, stunning hair himself, but he soon forgot he had hands and distractedly held onto the man’s black coat.
His knees gave out. If it wasn’t for Atsushi’s entire weight pressing him up to the wall, he would have slid to the ground.
Oh how he’d missed being up against walls with him.
Atsushi eagerly listened to Akutagawa’s sighs, his shivers, his gasps when they took a second to breathe.
Akutagawa thought he heard Atsushi purr. He would’ve asked about it, but he was somehow more out of breath than usual.
They gradually slid down, ended up on the floor. It was cold. Colder than Akutagawa could handle, given his suddenly more abundant shivers.
- Are you okay? You’re freezing
- Mmn don’t stop
Atsushi placed another kiss on Akutagawa’s cold lips. He then charged the man on his back.
He could handle this, despite the alcohol and kiss induced dizziness.
Man, he did not want to think about tomorrow. What would he think then? What would Akutagawa think? Akutagawa mumbled something about bugs.
- …I’ll take you back to mine.