Archive of Our Own ^beta

“What the fuck is a ‘Rin…sagi?’”

Nobody prepares you for these types of difficult questions when you enter the music industry. Quite frankly, Isagi didn’t think he’d ever be prepared to hear such words come out of poor Rin’s mouth at some meeting. Something about record labels and PR, something that neither of them are listening to in light of this new discussion topic.

“It’s a popular relationship among the fans in the scene,” Ego explains, voice deadpan while Rin’s poor mouth is left agape, in genuine shock at the news. “Rinsagi. Rin and Isagi, as in you and Isagi Yoichi. And there’s Bachirin, too, you and Ba—”

“That’s fucking gross,” Rin cuts him off, “and I’ve already heard enough.”

“—and the fans are really into this idea that you two have a real love-hate,” he continues, regardless of such a sour reaction. “Or that Bachira is your sunshine. That’s just what the people are into when it comes to shipping you.”

“...Shipping me? To where?”

At this, Bachira lets out a little laugh from beside Isagi. Oh, Rin. Or Rinrin, as Bachira (and Shidou) would have it, though this is a nickname that Rin often looks upon with disgust. Maybe Bachira has gotten a few bruises from using this nickname, but that’s neither here nor there.

“No, idiot,” Isagi chimes in. “Like, shipping as in wanting you to be in a relationship with me or Bachira.”

Isagi is truly shocked that Rin has not lost his lunch on anyone’s shoes yet. Seriously, Rin and Isagi? As boyfriends? Rin’s too busy writing songs about how much he hates his parents to ever be happy in a romantic relationship, and Isagi’s gotten run off of those celebrity dating apps because he’s too close with his best friend, as the ladies say. Apparently, living with your bandmates and spending half of your nights sharing a queen-sized bed with your drummer is “questionable” and can be seen as “emotional infidelity.” Whatever that means. It’s not like he and Bachira do anything other than watch football and sleep in the bed together.

Band practice would be much harder to organize if he didn’t live with the band, though, so Isagi supposes his failed dating app matches will just have to deal with it.

“Sometimes, it’s all three of you together," Ego adds, unhelpful. Gross enough to make Rin actually gag, which makes Bachira laugh, which makes Isagi crack a smile. His keep going, it’s funny to piss Rin off smile. “Either way, Rin, I figured you wouldn’t want it.”

“No shit.” Every time Rin speaks, Isagi is pretty sure that Ego gets a little closer to his demise. “Make it stop. Now.”

Unfortunately, Rin does have a point: shipping Rin and Isagi, in Isagi’s eyes, is treasonous. Isagi has never been more disappointed in the opinions of a fanbase in his entire life, even after years on fan twitter. Years of big-name pop album drops, cancellations and feuds, and this is what makes him want to leave the scene. Seriously? Rin and Isagi? Have these two ever been seen doing more than a cordial smile across a room at an awards show while they’re silently at each other’s throats?

There are, of course, worse problems to have. At least nobody’s mailed Isagi a bomb or fed him cupcakes infused with glass shards. After all, that would totally ruin the band.

“I can’t do anything to guarantee that it’ll stop,” Ego responds, fair and level as Rin’s veins bulge in his forehead. “All we can do is try to mitigate the allegations.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Rin asks, arms crossed, eyes sharp. “Do I need to go on Twitter and tell them, ‘I would never date Isagi, what the fuck is wrong with you for thinking that?’”

“No.” Plain, Ego swivels a bit in his chair, angling himself to face all three of the stars in the room with him. “One of you—Isagi or Rin—needs to enter a relationship.”

“You’re telling me, I have to date him?” Isagi joins the conversation, exasperated, while Bachira remains giggly in the corner. “Hell no.”

Bachira elbows him in the side. It’s a soft gesture, something that makes Isagi come down to Earth just a little bit more than he was before, but it’s still paired with laughs and an edge of get a load of this guy. Everyone’s your best friend until you’re crashing out over having to date the enemy, and suddenly, they’re your bully.

“No, Yocchan,” Bachira laughs, “you have to date, like, anyone but Rin. People will chill out with the shipping if you announce a girlfriend and soft-launch her on your Instagram story… with two glasses of champagne at a fancy restaurant or something, you know?”

“That’s—that’s ridiculous. How am I supposed to just start a relationship with someone I’ve barely ever met? I don’t talk to that many girls, or that many single men, so who the hell am I supposed to get with?”

“I don’t know,” Ego responds—do you even care?—while looking down at his poor little laptop, nonchalant as ever. Someone free that laptop from his cold, dead hands. Isagi can’t imagine how many times it’s gotten doused in broth from a late-night ramen dinner. “But if you want this to end soon, I’m gonna need you to come up with something as soon as possible.”

“Dating apps are free,” Rin adds, unhelpful as ever. “You have fun finding yourself a PR partner. I’m sure as hell not doing that.”

As if Isagi’s getting back onto Hinge these days. Not with the amount of people that are either only into him for the fame, or not into him because of his close and personal friend Bachira Meguru. Have these people ever had a best friend before? Or even a roommate? Apparently not, because some girls find the pictures of Bachira kissing Isagi’s cheek to be weird and a little gay, which is fine, but if you’re gonna cheat on me with your roommate, then I don’t want to date.

Whatever. If this is what it takes for Isagi to fix these rumors and cure himself from the allegations, then this is what he’ll do. Hopping back into the dating pool. Maybe he’ll meet the love of his life, or maybe, he’ll meet a psychopath that’s ready to ruin his career from the inside out…

Thinking about the possibilities, Isagi frowns—how is he going to pick up a random off of the Internet and make it into a convincing love story? Nobody is going to buy it if Isagi pops out with a girlfriend one day for the paparazzi and isn’t even holding her hand, because he isn’t some cheap prostitute and he won’t just go out with whatever girl he has to. He has standards, after all, and he’s also got an eye for a good romance. Nobody cares about some random Tinder match. They want something tangible to discuss, something to take the focus off of Rinsagi and shift it elsewhere.

“I’m not getting back on those stupid apps,” Isagi responds, much to Rin’s dismay. “I’m too picky and I couldn’t pull off a PR relationship with a stranger if I tried. I mean, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

“The kind of guy that needs to piss off and find a something, quick, before I start spreading rumors,” Rin huffs. “You’re probably the reason they’re shipping us to each other, anyways…”

“Shipping you with each other.” (Now is not the time for corrections, Bachira!) “Don’t spread any rumors. We’ll have it under control ASAP, Rin-chan!”

We. If Bachira is willing to find Isagi a girl, then Isagi is more than happy to welcome such assistance. God knows what kind of connections Bachira has. Maybe he’s got an entire list of girls’ phone numbers in his notes, ready for situations like this—though Isagi would wonder, how did a gay guy get this many girls in his phone? But he knows better than to question the inner workings of Bachira Meguru. His quirks don’t matter, because his work on the drums is magical. Even if he likes to walk around the studio in as little clothing as possible.

“And how do you think we’re gonna do that?” Isagi asks, nerves in his voice as Bachira laughs in a way that suggests nothing but mischief.

“Easy,” Bachira responds. “I’ll be your PR boyfriend!”

What the hell?

“Think about it,” he continues, “it could be pretty convincing. Sometimes they ship us, and we’re super close and live together, so the shift from friends to dating would be easy to pull off from an outsider perspective. All you’d have to do is, like, maybe touch me more in public and post selfies of us in the same bed—”

“You’re crazy,” Isagi cuts him off. “Chigiri and Kunigami are going to kill us if we start dating rumors and fuck up the band’s image. That, and would we have to stage a breakup, too? Or would we have to get married? And what if we find real girlfriends or boyfriends and have to break up and it makes shit weird—”

“Let me finish!” It’s a playful lecture, but still, it shuts Isagi up like no other. “We could be that ‘private but not secret’ type of relationship. And when the gig’s up, we can just stop posting about it all the time, and then hardlaunch someone new. Not that big of a deal. We’d only have to do it for a little bit, right? To free Rin from the shipping rumors?”

“So, what you’re saying is, we should lie to our fanbase and maybe post some pictures of us kissing or something, just to benefit Rin of all people?”

“I’m saying, this is the best option from a PR standpoint if you want a convincing fake relationship to shake you free from the Rinsagi shackles.” He taps Isagi’s nose, unshakable smile on his face, screaming just hear me out. “I’m not saying you have to marry me, Yocchan. But it would look calculated if you suddenly started dating a random woman, and people have plenty of suspicions about us already. And it’s not like closeness has ever been an issue for us.”

He can say that again. Throughout their entire friendship, Isagi and Bachira have shared physical intimacy akin to that of a romantic relationship (or, that’s what Isagi’s ex girlfriend would say.) A queen-size wasn’t made for just one, and Isagi and Bachira talk to each other way too much to not have sleepovers! Isagi wouldn’t be actively pursuing other people if he and Bachira were romantically involved, why can’t the world realize that?

Well, the world is about to have a much harder time doing so, since Ego is nodding along with Bachira’s little friends to lovers plot. Stupid. Ego might be the world’s worst manager, but at least Isagi hasn’t been cancelled. Just looked at sideways for having a “homoerotic” relationship with his best friend. He and Bachira are extremely close, so it makes sense that they like to grab onto each other’s hands in crowded places and stay up all night talking about anything and everything.

By those standards, it makes sense that Bachira is willing to date Isagi for PR benefits. Really, the switch wouldn’t be terrible. They might have to hold hands, might have to play up the platonic PDA for the cameras—but it’s nothing that’ll impact the inner workings of this friendship.

“Bobcut’s right,” Rin mumbles. Surely, admitting that Bachira of all people is correct is painstaking for him, but he agrees nonetheless. “You two are already so weird with each other. Nobody would even bat an eye if you started making out on stage—”

“We will not be making out on stage during our PR relationship!” Flustered, Isagi raises his voice in this little meeting room for the nth time, his words bouncing off the walls and coming right back at him. “Handholding and maybe a cheek kiss, but not that. I didn’t even do that with my girlfriends.”

“You didn’t even like your girlfriends all that much,” Bachira adds, once again not supporting Isagi’s case. Some best friend he is. “But it’s okay. None of that matters anymore, ‘cause we’re about to bring your chances of finding a wife down to zero…”

“When you say it like that, I start to question your intentions.” (Keep Isagi single, so he can keep writing songs about yearning, can keep devoting his time and heart to the band rather than the ladies. It’s not a bad life, really, and Isagi finds that romantic evenings with his songwriting notebooks are much less anxiety-inducing than those with girls from Hinge. Or dudes from Hinge, if we’re talking about that side of Isagi, the one that flakes on dates with guys that just aren’t supportive of the arts enough for his taste. How could he go out with someone that doesn’t understand the impact of music?)

“You’re so dramatic.” With his usual softness, Bachira leans into Isagi’s shoulder, like he’s testing out their newfound dynamic. “It won’t be that bad. We already, like, do everything together.”

“Yeah, everything but romance.”

Call Isagi petulant, a manchild or perhaps a bitch, but he can’t find it in himself to not mentally pull the “it’s not fair!” card in his head. Rin gets to go off, living his life, not a care in the world, while Isagi is tasked with fake-dating his best friend and roommate. Rin’s PR manager doesn’t convince him to join fake relationships. Bachira doesn’t seem to be plagued with any sort of conflict or insecurity, making Isagi the odd one out in this room of four people. At least this means Bachira will probably be the one to break the news to Chigiri and Kunigami, for better or for worse.

But if Isagi is anything, he’s adaptable. He doesn’t want this to be anything but a little bump in the road to the top, and it really doesn’t have to be anything but a bit. Kissing Bachira’s cheek is better than lots of things: kissing Rin, thinking about Rin, et cetera—and there are worse arrangements to be in. Really. As long as they don’t have to make out on stage or call each other baby in public, then Isagi is pretty sure he can handle whatever this fake relationship throws at him.

“...but I think it’ll be okay,” Isagi adds, after a few moments of silence. “You are my closest friend. We already do that kind of stuff together—I mean, we share a bed and hold hands very rarely, not the kissing and stuff! But still. I’ll survive if I have to kiss you on the cheek, Bachira, so stop making those eyes at me…”

(Bachira went to puppy dog eyes school and graduated at the top of his class, with the way his yellow gaze manages to melt the bit of annoyance in Isagi’s chest.) Something in the way he bats his lashes, little tails of black fluttering above and below such electric yellow eyes. He really does have those gorgeous eyes the fans are always gushing about on Twitter. Would be a shame if any of those wannabes got to see Bachira like this, with his chin pressed to Isagi’s shoulder and eyes looking up, somewhere between admiration and pleading.

Good thing there are four people in this room, and Rin wants nothing to do with Bachira and Isagi, and Ego is just here for his management duties. Neither of them seem to care when Bachira makes his eyes, save for the faint look of disgust on poor Rin’s face as he observes his… colleagues.

“See, you’re naturals at this,” Rin says, snarky. “Not even dating, or pretending to date yet, and you’re already fucking weird with each other like that.”

“Ain’t nothing weird about us!” Bachira shoots back. That southern tone—it certainly ain’t an accident. If anyone can melt Rin’s ridiculously-cold exterior, it’s the bassist of his concert band. “Why don’t you mind your own, Rinrin?”

“And don’t ever use that tone on me again.” (Struck a nerve, did he, Rinrin?) “I’m leaving. Have fun with your budding romance, or don’t. I don’t care.”

And he’s off. When Rin leaves, he slams the door, with no regard for basic manners. Not a trace of him is left behind but the mischievous smile on Bachira’s face, the one that comes over his mouth when he successfully pisses Rin off. There goes any chance of a successful collaboration.

…but Isagi can’t find it in himself to give a fuck about how Rin is feeling right now, even after Bachira’s teased him about his sensitive subject of the week. Last week, it was Itoshi Sae’s latest game, in which he scored what seems like the millionth winning goal of his career. This week, it’s baby-blue Hiori Yo, concert bassist and certified southern belle. If he were here to witness that teasing, he would have hit Bachira and Isagi with the don’t be mean, y’all, and Isagi would pay to see the way Rin melts at that.

However, Hiori is not here, and Rin’s gone now as well. All they have left is Isagi, Bachira, and a somewhat-satisfied Ego seated on the couch across from them, hands folded as he thinks over their newfound agreement.

It’ll be okay, Isagi repeats to himself, over and over, a mantra in his head. It’ll be okay, and Bachira is the last person to feel uncomfortable around, and it’ll be just like usual but with some more kissing—no, with the addition of kissing as a whole, because contrary to popular belief, we have only kissed on the mouth once and we were drunk—

Whatever. It’ll have to be whatever, because Bachira is smiling and content and Ego is about ready to do anything to avoid getting murdered by Rin Itoshi on a peaceful afternoon over problems that are completely out of his control. As much as Isagi doesn’t particularly like the guy, he doesn’t think anyone—even Ego—deserves to die at the hands of the angsty, Japanese reincarnation of Justin Bieber. And that’s just that.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

Bachira is seemingly unmoved by the entire arrangement.

When they make it back to their place, he flops down on Isagi’s bed like nothing happened at that stupid meeting. Like they didn’t accidentally sign themselves up for a fake relationship that involves romance. Kissing and holding hands and going on dates for the cameras. Kissing and kissing and kissing. How the fuck are they supposed to kiss each other for the bit? The one time their lips ever touched, Bachira was white-girl wasted off of the Pink Whitney and threw up on the floor promptly after. If you ask him about it now, he’ll tell you it was fun and stupid and silly.

Ask Isagi, and he’ll tell you that it makes his stomach drop every time the memory pops into his head, late at night when Bachira’s already sound asleep. Right now, however, is not one of those moments. Bachira lies stomach-down on Isagi’s bed now, looking up at Isagi with his head propped up on his hands, his usual amount of light and giggly.

“PR boyfriends, huh?” he teases, his feet kicking in the air behind him. “I think it’ll be fun. And scrolling through Twitter is gonna be so entertaining, isn’t it?”

Fun. Entertaining. Is my love life just a game to you, Meguru? “Yeah, I think. I just—I don’t want it to make anything weird, you know? Nothing weird. This is just out of necessity. I’m just scared they’ll be able to tell, though… I don’t know how convincing it would be if we just started kissing in public. Wouldn’t we look weird and awkward?”

“Are you doubting my kissing skills, Yoichi?” Sassy, Bachira sits up. “I’ll have you know that I’ve kissed the most boys out of our entire friend group. I’m a pro.”

“There’s a difference between dudes at the club and your best friend and vocalist!” Isagi argues, but he has to admit that Bachira’s claim flusters him. Just a little. Isagi doesn’t go around kissing anyone, but now would be a perfect time to have some more experience, you know? ‘Cause apparently, girls don’t like it when you kiss with your eyes open and stutter through the sweet talk. “And I’m not a pro, but I’m not the worst. Maybe not top ten, but certainly not the worst. It’ll definitely be better than when you kissed Otoya at that one festival.”

(In Isagi’s defense, that’s not exactly hard to beat. Considering how spread-thin Otoya is, he probably used all of his good kissing skills on someone other than Bachira. Maybe. Hopefully.)

Isagi is competitive in nature—comparing their kissing skills is almost like comparing where they stand on the Top 40. Will Isagi’s ability to make out with his best friend for PR purposes go platinum, or is he getting dropped from his label on the basis of being so un-romantic that it makes even Bachira want to die?

“Maybe we should test it out,” Bachira suggests. He and Isagi sit beside each other, close and comfortable like they have since they met, but things feel weird right now. Maybe not for Bachira, but definitely for Isagi. There are all these new expectations that come with a fake relationship. Even if it’s meant for the public eye, there’s no way they can just continue being normal besties behind the scenes. “So we can make it more convincing. They’ll definitely find out it’s fake if you kiss with your eyes open.”

“You’d probably be into that, you freak,” Isagi responds, but he cannot hide the way his face heats up even more, “but that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I mean, we share drinks half the time, that’s basically an indirect kiss.”

“Whatever you say, Yocchan.”

This may be the stupidest decision Isagi has ever made. He totally could’ve found himself a girlfriend on some dating app and just gotten to know her like a normal fucking person, but instead, here he is. Awkwardly going to face his best friend on night one of their fake relationship. Turning to meet Bachira’s eyes, glowing and yellow even in the overhead lighting of Isagi’s room, and nearly shying away at the sight.

“You’re scared,” he observes, but he lets his pinky lay itself over Isagi’s nonetheless. “Acting like we haven’t been best friends for years. It won’t change anything, I promise. It’s just for the fans, and for Rin. Maybe you two will finally stop hating each other if you do this one little favor for him.”

“I am not scared,” Isagi groans, “and I’m not doing this for Rin. I’m doing this for me, and for you, kind of. Just so we can get those people out of our business. They won’t speculate as much if we give them some solid proof that there’s nothing to suspect.”

“Okay. If you say so.” In an attempt at being romantic, Isagi takes his free hand to tuck Bachira’s hair behind his ear, just like they do in the movies. “Wow, so sweet. Maybe you are as good as Otoya.”

“He’s good at this?” (No way he’s good at this. He does it all the time, but it’s all performance and no passion. Sure, he gets a lot of guys and girls, but does he ever fall in love? Has Otoya ever dated to marry?) “I don’t believe it. There’s just no way.”

“Sounds like somebody’s jealous,” Bachira laughs, soft as he licks his lips in a way that can only be described as tantalizing. What the hell? “It’s okay, Yocchan. You’re still my best friend. Number one.”

“What’s that have to do with any of this? I wouldn’t mind if you—you know, you and Otoya kissed. Or whatever. Or if you dated. That’s none of my business, you’re allowed to kiss whoever you want—”

“I have a tip for you.” Way to cut me off, asshole. “Less talking, more kissing.”

Wow, okay. Just tell him to shut up while you’re at it, huh—but Isagi listens regardless, his eyes darting away as he mimics Bachira’s little lick-lip. It feels awkward. Feels like Isagi is about to have his first kiss, even if this is far from it.

When he leans in and kisses Bachira, he feels like he’s going to throw up, or have an aneurysm, or both at the same time. Which is a ridiculous way to look at a simple kiss with his best friend, but all he can think is cringe cringe cringe he’s probably pretending I’m Otoya or Ryan Reynolds or literally anyone else right now. Like any normal man does when kissing another guy, even one that he’s super close with.

This isn’t even their first kiss, even if it’s the first one they’ve shared while sober. So, there’s really no explanation as to why Isagi feels so awkward about it all, but it does sort of explain why Bachira’s so damn good.

Maybe, in a past life, Bachira and Isagi were some beautiful couple that kissed all the time, because the way Bachira’s kissing him is experienced. For two guys that have only kissed once, Isagi can’t help from feeling like Bachira’s somehow able to read his mind and know exactly what he likes, what he’s going to do, when he’s going to do it. It’s on the borderline between hot and creepy. Either way, Isagi doesn’t want to pull away, but not doing so… it feels wrong. Like this is going to get them grounded, even if they’re grown adults with their own house and bills and careers.

Bachira’s head tilts to the side, furthering the kiss—Isagi is just surprised that both of their eyes are closed. In a drunken spiel, Bachira discussed his love of eye contact, but that trait is not apparent right now. Isagi opens his eyes for a split-second to take in the view, and Bachira’s are shut so softly, lashes splayed out against his cheeks. Pretty. What, who said that?

At least there are no tongues touching right now. Honestly, that might be the one thing to send Isagi over the edge, because why would they need to kiss with tongue in the privacy of the bedroom they (mostly) share? There’s nobody to perform for here, nobody to convince or impress, but Isagi continues kissing Bachira regardless. For practice. Anything to convince the world of this relationship, at least for a little while.

As pathetic as it may feel to admit, this is the best first kiss Isagi has had in a long time. Maybe it’s the background shared between him and Bachira, or the fact that they’re both older and more experienced than they were in their teens when they were having their individual first kisses, but either way, it’s nice. Sucks that it’s happening with his best friend/fake boyfriend and cannot be replicated that often for mental health’s sake, but Isagi decides to savor the moment.

He moves slowly, letting his hand leave Bachira’s and wrap around his waist, feeling the curve of his fit body through today’s Barcha jersey. Seems like Bachira has a billion of these, but it’s okay, because they suit him. He looks good. In the most platonic way possible, Bachira looks very nice today, Barcha jersey over his frame with the guyliner and his stupid platforms. As if the single centimeter of height difference wasn’t enough for him.

“Yoichi,” Bachira whispers, soft against Isagi’s lips. “You’re much better at this than I remember.”

“Maybe ‘cause I’m sober this time,” Isagi responds, maintaining the soft tone as he lets his thumb stroke Bachira’s cheek. One hand on his face, one hand on his waist, and one heart beating out of his chest. He might need a transplant after this. “I didn’t even think you remembered that…”

“Well, I didn’t, at first.” Even with the break in kissing, he doesn’t pull away from Isagi’s mouth, their lips still nearly touching. “Eita told me what went down after the fact, when I woke up on his couch. Told me, you and Yocchan made out last night, that shit was hot! and I nearly broke his nose… but I’m starting to realize why he would say that.”

“Of course he commented on it.” (Is twenty years old too old to be pouting? Isagi’s doing it anyway.) “Wish nobody saw that. It was super embarrassing when Kunigami mentioned it the day after… we got lunch and he asked if we—you know. If we’d done that before, I had to tell him no and he was surprised. Just friends with some really good chemistry.”

“Guess it’s just my raw talent,” Bachira giggles. “Now, my advice from earlier. Less talking, more—”

It’s Isagi’s turn to do the up-shutting now, pressing his lips into Bachira’s again rather than letting him finish the rest of that phrase. Isagi has no idea what the hell is up with him today, be it touch-starvation or a need to take his feelings of annoyance out on something, but there’s something nice about kissing Bachira that he hasn’t felt with many other people before. Being such close friends, it’s no surprise that their physical chemistry is something to be talked about (within the confines of this bedroom, of course), but he’s still surprised at how good it feels.

If this is just the test run, then the real deal is going to be great. There’s no doubt in Isagi’s mind that he and Bachira are about to pull off the world’s most convincing PR stunt—maybe they have promising careers in rom-com acting, if the music industry fucks them sideways.

Kissing your best friend for practice, however, is not beneficial for the environment at your shared dinner table.

Chigiri and Kunigami come home from practicing after an hour or two, hungry and ready to eat, and the sound of the doorbell is a rude awakening for a kiss-drunk pair of roommates locked in Isagi’s bedroom. It’s the same feeling as having a really good day in the studio. When you’re playing so well, you don’t exactly want to stop—but they absolutely cannot continue making out when their bandmates are home. No fucking way.

“Dinner’s here,” Kunigami calls from the hallway. “Isagi, Bachira. Come eat before it gets cold… shit, I hope they’re not sleeping.”

Thankfully, as into-it as they were, Bachira and Isagi seem to have a common idea on how to deal with this situation as it relates to their bandmates: by pulling apart, smoothing out their hair, and thinking of anything to get the image of each other’s lips out of their minds. Isagi is already thinking about his parents’ wedding anniversary by the time Kunigami barges into the bedroom after just two rough knocks. Thank God for common sense.

“Hey, come eat,” he repeats. “Chigiri’s waiting for you guys.”

“We’re coming,” Isagi responds. Don’t look at my mouth or my eyes or the wrinkles on my shirt. “Takeout?”

“Yeah. Didn’t feel like cooking today, and you two were at that meeting, so we figured this was the best option. Not like it was super above our means or anything.”

Not wanting to raise any questions, Isagi follows Kunigami into the dining room, Bachira trailing close behind. Suddenly, shit’s sweet, and everyone’s normal. As if they didn’t just kiss for upwards of an hour, with the occasional breather to discuss, how can we make this more convincing for the fans? before diving back in. Isagi pinches himself under the table while their food is passed around, but to his misfortune, this is definitely real.

Shortly after thanking Chigiri and Kunigami for the food, Bachira is diving right in. If you were that hungry, we could’ve stopped kissing each other for ten minutes to order some food, Isagi thinks, but for obvious reasons, he decides not to say this one out loud. Bachira can’t drum for hours at a time if the only calories he’s getting are from Isagi’s saliva, though, so the food is much appreciated.

Isagi has done drugs with less of an impact on his brain functions than kissing Bachira. If kissing him drunk was enough to cause such a disruption in his mind, then kissing him sober is really something else. How many guys in the scene get to say they’ve made out with Bachira Meguru, beloved drummer and Tumblr dream boy, for an hour straight? In their own bedroom, rather than the bathroom at some shitty party? People would pay to run their hands through Bachira’s hair, commenting on the place where it fades from brown to yellow, but Isagi gets to do it for free. For PR, even, which indirectly calls for a little bit of publicity and extra pocket money from the Bachisagi shippers. Maybe they can finally get that record player Bachira’s been wanting.

After the practice session today, Isagi is pretty sure it’ll be okay. As much as he wants to blab about this experience to somebody, he keeps his mouth shut at the dinner table, though the environment is fine overall. Bachira is peacefully eating his food and chatting up Isagi like he always does, and Chigiri and Kunigami have no clue, and it’s okay. Maybe Isagi will just text Hiori about it tonight and hope he doesn’t spread it back to the E4 household.

“Do we get to know what that meeting was all about?” Chigiri asks over the table. “I was wondering why we weren’t all invited…”

“Just some PR stuff,” Isagi replies. “You know, with Rin and all that.”

“It’s ‘cause people want Rin and Yocchan to date,” Bachira chimes in, “and Ego’s making Yocchan fake a relationship so Rin doesn’t blow up our studio.”

“Like, a relationship with Rin?” Kunigami joins in, making this conversation flow all four ways. Very confusing!

“No,” Bachira replies, “a relationship with me.”

Well, there goes the chatter. Chigiri’s jaw drops in shock, his eyebrow quirking up at the thought of it—Bachira and Isagi? Faking a relationship, under their roof? Isagi knows what it looks like on the outside, but still, he nervously laughs along with Bachira’s frank explanation.

“He said it,” Isagi adds. “Um, it’s just a short-term thing to get people to stop focusing on me and Rin so hard. Because Rin really doesn’t like the shipping and Meguru’s fine with faking it, you know? Ego put me up to this. Asshole.”

Isagi already knows that it’s so over for him as he explains, because he knows he’s probably beet-red and embarrassing himself—but his friends do deserve something of an explanation. It’s either an explanation, or they find out by walking in on a kiss, and then all hell would break loose. Explaining over the dinner table is much easier than explaining when his lips are within six inches of Bachira’s face.

“I see.” Chigiri sips from his glass, carefully eyeing Isagi as he looks down at the table. The wooden surface is suddenly very interesting. “Does this mean you’re gonna have to, like… kiss on stage or something?”

“Depends on how long Bachira and I have to ‘date’ each other.” Is this mahogany? “We haven’t been performing lately, so it should just be an Instagram story here and there and maybe holding hands in public. Nothing on stage if there’s no show to do it at.”

This has got to be some sort of public humiliation ritual. Even if sitting at a table with your three roommates that you’ve been friends with for ages is hardly public, the humiliation part still stands, because Isagi has never felt more judged than he does right now. Is it that big of a deal? Pretending to date Bachira for a few weeks?

Does this put Isagi on a ban from going out with anyone else? The ethics of cheating on your fake relationship are not often discussed, but Isagi doesn’t know how it would look to the fans if he publicized his relationship with Bachira, and then turned around to kiss some girl at a party. Imagine how badly that would backfire on Isagi and E4 as a band.

For what it’s worth, Isagi will not be pursuing other romantic avenues, even if this relationship is all for show. A cheating scandal does not sound fun right now. Not when they’re so early in their careers, when something like that could prevent them from ever making it as big as they’d like to be. On top of the moral implications and fandom struggles, Ego would probably have Isagi’s head on a stick from the nearest woodlands.

So, overall, the ladies can wait. Isagi Yoichi is now a taken man, even if he’s been taken into the custody of a bit that’s already gone a little too far. Practicing should be a peck they never discuss again, not a full-on session of face-sucking while their friends are out practicing. Practicing should be a lighthearted discussion about where to put their hands, not a quiet room filled with just the sound of their lips coming together.

But that’s what happened. And neither of them seemed to want it to end, even if the logical sides of their music-filled brains knew what they had to do in order to not ruin their household for at least week, which is what’s sort of fucking Isagi up right now over his takeout dinner with friends. If Bachira’s his best friend, then why did they get so into it? Why didn’t they want to stop? Why did they go on for so long?

God knows—so, maybe Isagi should quit music and become a priest. Today is not the day to start thinking deeply, because something in Isagi’s biology tells him it’s only going down from here.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

A week later, Bachira and Isagi are back at the drawing board, talking through their methods late at night in Isagi’s bed.

The scene feels familiar: lying side by side beneath Isagi’s covers, Bachira’s hair half-up with his stupid blue light glasses on, his shirt defiled with wrinkles, his socks bunched up around his ankles. Isagi’s sprout sticks up every which way, his shirt riding up his waist, his cheeks flushed as Bachira talks about a “soft launch”. Apparently, if you want your fake relationship to be convincing, you have to post some little hints.

“I’m just sayin’, we could stand to do more on Twitter,” Bachira explains. “Like, not Nagi-Reo levels of obvious, but you could post a cute selfie. Or make a vague tweet or something.”

“You’re right,” Isagi replies, likely thing for him to say! “But what can we even post that we haven’t posted already? I mean, there’s a picture of you kissing my cheek somewhere out there. Even if we were both drunk again and Ego explained it all, that still exists. Not everyone’s gonna know if another picture like that is a friends thing or a dating thing.”

“I have an idea, but you aren’t going to like it.” The usual mischief takes over Bachira’s face again, sending Isagi’s stomach back to the pits of Hell. “Kiss me closer to my lips. Not, like, on my mouth, but the corner. Or my neck, or something. That’s leagues more romantic than kissing on the cheek.”

“You’d know quite a bit about romantic kissing.” (Since Bachira’s apparently kissed Otoya, and allegedly, there was a spin-the-bottle moment with Michael fucking Kaiser, what the hell!)

A week has passed since the start of their fake relationship, and in this week, Isagi has learned way more about his best friend and the party scene than he ever intended on knowing. Kaiser being in Japan, be it at the club or in the crowd at an E4 gig, is a sin in itself—but the real crime is him and Bachira and their drunk kiss. Seems like every time Bachira gets drunk, he’s kissing another one of him and Isagi’s mutual friends. Or frenemies, or Otoya, who’s sort of a secret third thing. Isagi doesn’t particularly care for him, but apparently, Otoya thought Isagi and Bachira kissing was hot. Like, whatever. Whatever!

It’s probably just because Bachira is such a good kisser. Not because of anything else. Isagi’s certain the feeling between him and Otoya is mutual, but Bachira is a different story, universally adored. Everyone who has ever met Bachira has just absolutely loved him, Isagi being no exception, but this strange sense of jealousy still bubbles up in Isagi’s chest every time Bachira mentions his man adventures. Why has Bachira kissed all of his friends but Isagi, save for that one time they didn’t talk about until now?

Isagi shouldn’t care. He really, really shouldn’t, because he does not want this to come off as a dig at Bachira and his displays of affection and close friendships, but the heartache comes around all the same when Otoya’s commenting you look sooo good on Bachira’s posts. Yes, Bachira looks good on Instagram, but he looks even better when he and Isagi are kissing. For fun!

“I’ll do the corner of the mouth,” Isagi huffs, following up after his little remark. Cuck. Always agreeing with whatever Bachira says, especially under the presence of the yellow glare that received his little comment. “Do I have to post it right now? I feel like just words would be better to start off with. Make everyone talk for a few days before we confirm anything.”

“I suppose that’s fine,” he replies. “Just be ready to deal with the drama when you do post the picture. Ego told you to find a fake partner, not me. Your job to do the launching. I just have to sit here and look pretty.”

“Yeah, you got off easy.” Looking pretty isn’t hard for you to do. “Um, sorry. It’s probably gonna be awkward…”

“We made out a week ago for practice.”

“Okay, but that wasn’t a staged mouth kiss for a selfie.” And it was so nice. “Whatever. Come here.”

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. It’s just a picture to keep in their back pockets for when the world needs confirmation, just the corner of Bachira’s lips, but Isagi blushes and finds himself in an awkward giggle when he’s falling onto Bachira once again. They’re no strangers to sharing this bed, but now they’re kissing in it. Again. Something tells Isagi this will not be the last time.

The picture itself is nothing crazy—Bachira’s face is not obscured, his golden eye catty and barely concealed by the ends of some uncut bangs, and this will definitely get the world talking about their relationship. Bachira’s eyeliner from earlier is not completely gone, his signature lip piercing still visible on the un-kissed side.

Looking at his amazing photography, Isagi sort of wants to print this out and put it on the wall, or make it his phone’s wallpaper. The photo is good. It’s intimate and convincing, but it’s nothing that Isagi feels particularly uncomfortable posting. This picture will serve its exact purpose with ease when the time comes. All that and just a little more, because Isagi falls away from Bachira with his phone still open to the picture, awaiting its day to finally be released, and his poor little heart flutters.

“That’s cute,” Bachira says, offhandedly, when he lies back down against Isagi’s pillows. “Can’t wait to go like your Tweet. Maybe micro-flirt in your replies to stir the pot.”

“‘m starting to wonder if you should be in the music scene, or if you should be an actor,” Isagi replies. He prays—to God, to whoever’s out there—that Bachira cannot tell how flustered and soft he is right now. “You’re good at the fake dating thing.”

“What can I say, I’m a professional!”

While he’s trying to regain composure, Isagi brings his phone back up to his face, brainstorming what his vague post of the day will be. As much as he enjoys the photo they just took, he’s glad that it can sit on the back burner for a little while. He gets to gatekeep a picture of him and Bachira kissing for a few days more.

Isagi Yoichi @isagiyoichi
Never move in with cute guys you meet at local gigs. Meguru has his cold feet on my legs right now and I'm too much of a sucker to say anything. Who needs socks anyways?

That will work. Bachira is very cute, and it’s not too suggestive or revealing or personal. Just something small. They have made out, but Isagi will pretend to be squeamish over feet online for PR reasons. And now he has a cute photo to whip out when times get tough, even if that jealous corner of his mind doesn’t want to share that image with anyone but Bachira.

bachiraaa :P @beechira — replying to @isagiyoichi
ohhhhhh so u think i’m cuteeee?????? ;)

Subtlety has never been Bachira’s field of expertise, but this is possibly the world’s gayest way he could have responded to such a post. Not a “sorry, I’ll put on socks” or “I’ll take my feet off of you!” (though both of these replies would be a lie, since their feet are lying tangled beneath Isagi’s covers as they formulate responses and take PR photographs). Just a flirty reply, because if one thing is true, Bachira will be fueling fires and causing more and more discussions.

“That’ll definitely make them wonder,” Bachira giggles, “and then you can post your little selfie. If you want to. You were eyeballing it pretty hard earlier… it’s okay if you don’t want to, Yocchan. I know it’s probably annoying that you have to deal with this at all.”

“I mean, it could always be worse. I’d rather be fake-dating you than whatever random idol Ego would have found for me if I refused to pick someone myself, and I’d also rather date you than deal with Rin’s bullshit if he ended up having to find someone.” And you’re pretty good at kissing, so it’s not that awful. “Sucks that I have to, like, be vulnerable on Twitter. Even if it’s acting, it’s still—you know. I don’t want people thinking they know me when they don’t.”

“It’s okay. I would gatekeep you more if I could.” To punctuate this, Bachira falls right into the crook of Isagi’s neck. They don’t even need to act this way right now, mind you, but nothing has been normal for about a week now.

How is Isagi supposed to be normal at a time like this? When he and Bachira are the closest they can get to dating, all without actually being real boyfriends? This is no normal besties thing, no matter how much Bachira seems to see it all as a game. This is different. Strange. Somehow, this is fun.

Tonight, Bachira does not return back to his own bedroom—who needs personal space anyways? He falls asleep in Isagi’s bed, his body basically burning a hole into the left side of it. Specifically, he falls asleep curled into Isagi’s side, all while he’s phoning a friend about this entire situation.

Hiori
wtf is that tweet u just made
i mean rinchan told me u had to do some fake dating stuff
but like
???

Isagi
Relax, it’s for the bit
“Rinchan”

Hiori
shhh this ain’t about me
u and bachiraaaaaa huh?
for the bit or for the rest of ur lives?

Isagi
Bit
I think
Idk though, is it gay to make out like in private but as practice?

Hiori
please tell me thats not what yall are doing rn

Isagi
Well not right now but like
We have made out since the incident (PR meeting) and I’m not gonna lie it was so good and he’s a really good kisser
Nevermind the fact that we kissed at that party that one time

Hiori
oh dont remind me
anyways are u dumb?

Isagi
Not particularly

Hiori
rin was right when he said u and bachira are "weird" about each other
wtf do u mean “we have made out since the incident” so casually
is it or is it not a PR bit joke relationship

Isagi
It’s a PR relationship probably

Hiori
“probably”
ur entering like the most evil situationship ever
praying 4 u!! been there done that
at least bachira isnt avoidant :/

Isagi
Could be worse, could be dating Rin rn

Hiori
bye
be nice :( he might be mean but he’s so cute

Reacting to the message with a thumbs down, Isagi turns his phone off. Evil situationship. As if anything about Bachira could ever be evil. As if this is a situationship and not just another little thing they have to deal with if they want to be the biggest band in the world.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

The next practice session happens… well, at practice.

Correction: the next big kissing lesson happens at band practice. And this can hardly be called a lesson anymore, considering that they’re both passing this class with flying colors. If “making out with your best friend” is a class, then Isagi might have a chance at returning to the honor roll, bringing it all the way back to the perfect grades he made as a child.

This can hardly be considered band practice anymore. This is another one of their buddy system bathroom trips gone wrong, because it will definitely raise questions if their friends see them sneaking off to kiss. If Chigiri walks into the bathroom to see his drummer and vocalist sucking face against the wall, nobody is getting dinner tonight. Ice soup with some salt and pepper, maybe.

What’s a guy supposed to do when his best friend that he fake-dates is making those eyes at him from across the room? Bachira has this face he makes when he wants something from Isagi, and now, that something is not limited to a bite of Isagi’s dinner or a shorter time spent in the studio. That something comes in the form of hushed, heated kisses pressed into Bachira’s lips while they’re posted up against the bathroom door, the lock turned, leaving them invincible to any prying eyes.

But Isagi can’t just take a kiss and live with it, no—he craves knowing why. Why does Bachira like to kiss him so much when they’re just friends that date for PR reasons? Isagi keeps that photo of them locked up in his phone, and keeps the gay Tweets to a minimum. The gay thoughts are another story, but he never claimed to be straight. He only claimed to not be in a real relationship with Bachira, but these days, that’s starting to feel less and less like the truth.

Band practice is supposed to start in five minutes, but instead of warming up and getting ready, they’re kissing in the bathroom. This is the type of behavior that would get them a rough slap on the wrist from Ego if discovered (since you can’t be the most popular band in the world if you spend your time kissing each other instead of practicing), but Isagi indulges nonetheless. Maybe overindulges, because everything that has happened since they established this arrangement has been so damn confusing, he’s starting to wish he made Rin find a partner instead. The death glares would have been worth it.

“Meguru,” he murmurs, low under the hum of the lights and the faint sound of rehearsing from outside. “We should really go practice… they’re gonna start accusing us of stuff.”

Bachira kisses Isagi’s neck, soft and gentle in the way lovers do. Not in the way fake boyfriends do, but Isagi will look the other way. “Doesn’t matter if they ‘accuse us of stuff.’ They’d be wrong.”

“Well, yeah, but they’re gonna get mad at us if we’re late to practice for this.” Isagi wishes he could be solid and serious right now, but instead, he’s letting his face heat up at the feeling of Bachira’s lips on his neck. “We can continue later… I think they already have dinner plans, so it’ll just be us at the house.”

“Fine.” Pouty, Bachira finally pulls away, but not without giving Isagi’s face a good analysis first. What is he seeing? Does he just see blue eyes and a stupid smirk, or is he seeing every line and freckle? Does he notice the way some of Isagi’s hair is sticking to his forehead, considering how sweaty he is, or is he oblivious to it all? Is there a certain lovesickness in Isagi’s eyes that makes him so, so obvious?

Isagi does not want to stop, and he will say that until he tires the words out—until the language is sick and tired of hearing don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop. Until Bachira is tired of kissing Isagi, until he finds someone else. Someone he can be real boyfriends with and not a PR relationship.

If Bachira feels half as perplexed by this entire situation as Isagi does, then he does a professional job at not showing it. He takes it like a champ while Isagi eats concrete every time they even remotely discuss the arrangement. It’s just for PR, but even Bachira is brewing up some posts to make it convincing from both sides.

bachiraaa :P @beechira
i wish they made cookie yocchans so i could eat him and nobody can take him from me ever :3

Cookie Yocchans. It’s stupid, just a silly Tweet to keep people talking about Bachisagi, but Isagi can’t help from pondering the meaning behind it all. If it’s a fake relationship, then how is Bachira even coming up with the idea of being jealous of anyone else Isagi talks to? Not that Isagi is talking to anyone else, but you get the idea. He doesn’t need to talk to anyone else right now. A real-life relationship is a lot of work for an artist!

(But being with Bachira is easy. Sometimes, it feels too real, when they’re lying in bed together and listening to all the music they’ve made over the years, commenting on lyrics they wish they could change and melodies they want to remember forever. And it definitely feels too real when Bachira’s kissing him like they’ve been lovers in every universe, but that’s already been run into the ground.)

The tension in the room when Bachira and Isagi finally return to practice is thick enough to cut with a knife, but Isagi has never been good in the kitchen, so it remains intact. Right now, he’s an awkward dog, whites of his eyes visible as he slinks into his usual spot in the studio. He’s an awkward dog, and if we’re keeping with the animal kingdom, then Bachira’s a real cool cat. As if he wasn’t all up in Isagi’s business minutes ago. His lips were on Isagi’s mouth, his forehead, his ears, his neck, and if Isagi keeps thinking about this then he might genuinely explode. He’s starting to wonder if he should seek therapy.

“Look who decided to show up,” Chigiri huffs, leaning back against his chair. “How long does it take you to piss and wash your hands?”

“As long as I want it to,” Bachira responds, as relaxed as ever. He’s got a demeanor that Isagi could only dream of—effortlessly cool in some weird way. There are Twitter threads galore of all the ways Bachira is eccentric, but nobody fails to acknowledge the fact that he’s actually cool. He’s a drummer, has the piercings and the colorful hair and even a tattoo here and there. “What’s it to you?”

“We were supposed to start practicing five minutes ago,” Kunigami throws in, gentler. Less assertive, but he still sounds disappointed, a parent that definitely isn’t mad. Not mad, just disappointed. “It’s okay. Just—let’s start warming up.”

Through all of this, Isagi remains quiet. He might as well have his mouth glued shut, because there’s not a thing he could speak out loud right now that wouldn’t be about Bachira: his lips, his waist, the way his hands feel in Isagi’s hair. Isagi’s transcended the typical gay thoughts and has catapulted into full-frontal yearning, as fucked-up and sickening as it is. He doesn’t want to feel this way, not about his best friend and drummer. And definitely not now.

So, he practices. Singing their lyrics doesn’t allow much room to slip in commentary about Bachira’s legs in those shorts, so he’s able to remain inconspicuous through their rehearsal process. Bachira does perfectly, like usual, and Chigiri and Kunigami were definitely doing some extra practice while the other half of the band was on a bathroom break, because they sound great.

Everything sounds great. The band is as polished as ever, the music comes flowing from their instruments and mouths like it’s their first language. Isagi has never been more grateful for singing in his entire life, because this appears to be the only way he’ll ever not be able to think about Bachira for at least another month.

Rehearsal ends as quick as it begins. Hours go by of productive practice, save for the occasional water break or mistake that gets all of Bachira’s laughs, and the sun’s already started to set when they’re packing up for the night. Tonight comes with a beautiful sunset, something straight out of a romantic comedy that Bachira would force Isagi to watch. Something about that fact makes Isagi’s stomach churn a little bit. He’s not sure why.

Truly, it’s whatever. Isagi is the king of whatever and moving on and going with the flow, so he cannot and will not let this little crush get in the way of living his life while in his prime. Now is the chance for him to live his life, to make it big, and he cannot let his hopeless love-crush-thing for Bachira impede his ability to make music and live.

(Still, even when saying this in his head, he still lets Bachira grab onto his hand when they’re leaving the studio, even if it gets them some sideways looks from their other two band members. And he still lets Bachira kiss him against the bedroom door, too, when all is said and done and Chigir and Kunigami have gone out for dinner…)

…which is where they’re found, just twenty minutes after practice. Chigiri and Kunigami head on over to their dinner plans, leaving Bachira and Isagi alone at their place. There’s really no need to even close the bedroom door, but it’s shut anyway, and barricaded with Isagi’s body pressed to the wood. His back, just inches from the doorknob, feeling every panel beneath his skin, and his stomach pressed against Bachira’s, their lips once again locked on each other—

Isagi could die right now, because this is Heaven. There’s a fervor in Bachira’s kiss that Isagi has never found in anyone else, in any other girlfriend or boy toy that’s ever had the privilege of kissing his lips. Bachira kisses like he’s hungry, hungry for all of Isagi’s saliva, every dead skin cell on his lips, every drop of sweat from his upper lip. Isagi kisses him back like he’s proposing marriage, soft and permanent and almost pleading.

It’s a shame, really, that Isagi’s been caught up in this. It’s a fake relationship, but he plays the game like no other. He wraps his hand around Bachira’s waist, the other hand on the back of Bachira’s head, pulling him in further. (If he could crawl into Bachira’s skin, he probably would, just to experience other-worldly warmth. Is it so wrong to be jealous of Bachira’s heart, considering that it gets the pleasure of being nestled so cozily in his ribcage? Jealous of his nose, for being so close to his lips at all times?)

“Yocchan,” Bachira mumbles, so quietly into Isagi’s lips. It’s barely there, but Isagi hears it, of course he does. “You’re really something else tonight, aren’t you?”

“Says the one that has me nailed to the door,” Isagi responds, returning in such a low tone (and kissing the soft corners of Bachira’s mouth.) “This is gonna hurt my back after a while, you know…”

“Don’t care.” Well, he never did claim to be the nurturing kind. “You’re so hot like this.”

Before Isagi can respond, with either a witty comeback or a mess of stutters and disbelief, Bachira zones back in on his lips. There is nothing soft or platonic or staged about the way they’re kissing each other right now. Last time Isagi checked, there are no cameras in this room, and the curtains are closed with not a crack to even let the light in. Who needs daylight when they have a billion tiny lightbulbs, all in the form of fairy lights hung around the room? And who needs a real relationship when they have whatever the fuck this is?

Who needs answers to those questions? Isagi does, surely, but not right now. Not when Bachira’s tongue is down his throat, his hands are on Bachira’s waist, their bodies connected at the very same place the music comes from—the head, the mouth. The lyrics in Isagi’s head and the songs coming from his lips, though his vocal cords have simply been reduced to simple machines forming soft whines that end up muttered against Bachira’s lips, anyways. So much for that perfect pitch he was born with.

Bachira truly is an absolute spectacle right now, a thing of pure wonder. Golden eyes peer over Isagi’s face, and he swears he can feel warmth on his cheeks from Bachira’s gaze. They’ve come this close many times, through kisses and secret-spillings of the past, but right now feels different. Right now feels electric, a hand splayed against the static screen of an old TV, and Isagi could not be more in love with anyone else—

In love. What a stupid thing to be, with your very best friend and drummer. But as much as he wishes he was, Isagi is not stupid, and he knows this fuzzy feeling isn’t just a stomach bug. He knows he has a crush, knows he likes kissing Bachira for reasons outside of practicing for PR.

And he knows he doesn’t like the fact that so many of their friends have had the pleasure of kissing Bachira, too. It still irks Isagi that Kaiser of all people has gotten to kiss Bachira, no matter how drunk they were or how little they keep in touch to this day. Kaiser having Bachira's phone number and his lips on Bachira’s mouth at some point in history should be outlawed in every country. Otoya isn’t much better, especially since they’re still close friends, but at least he’s tolerable. At least Isagi knows where Bachira stands with Otoya, who kisses for love of the game. Bachira and Otoya kissing meant absolutely nothing, but it still wrecks Isagi in the dark green corner of his mind that wants Bachira all to himself.

No matter how many of their friends have kissed Bachira, nobody has been kissed like this. With Bachira’s tongue in their throat, exploring all the corners, with Bachira’s hands on their waist. The way they’re kissing would get Isagi banned from having sleepovers with Bachira by his own mother, even at the age of twenty. Isagi wishes he could hate it. Wishes he didn’t have to like Bachira of all people, but alas.

“You’re way more into this than you should be,” Isagi whispers, somewhere between the panting and the whining.

“Should be? Who says I have to play by your rules?” Bachira whispers back, his lips settled close to Isagi’s ear, sending shivers up his spine. “I’m a perfectly normal amount of into this.”

“But it’s—it’s fake. We both know that.”

Stammering, Isagi somehow loses the hot makeout god demeanor of minutes past, instead coming back to himself. His awkward, confused self, the Isagi that begs for answers and needs Bachira to give a four-sentence constructed response on his intentions with this fake relationship. And Bachira is pulling away now, the guys facing each other now to make some very awkward and intense eye contact.

“Like, for PR and stuff,” Isagi continues, fully flushed now. Not even in the hot way. In the I blew it way. “What happens when you find another guy that you actually want to be with? Wouldn’t he get mad at you for… this?”

Reading was never Isagi’s best subject in school, and that displays itself right now as he tries to make sense of the emotions splayed across Bachira’s face. Bachira’s a magazine in another language. He’s some piece of literature that Isagi can’t decipher, with his brow furrowed, his head cocked, his lips red and shiny from sucking Isagi’s soul out through his mouth.

“Well, I’m not really looking for anyone else right now,” Bachira says, and his voice has come down to a mutter. “Listen, Yoichi. If I didn’t like it, I would walk away. Do I look like I’m walking away from this anytime soon?”

You look like you’re about to drag me to a wedding chapel in Vegas and make a legally-binding mistake, Isagi wants to respond, but he does not. Bachira looks amazing right now, albeit a little confused. Like he doesn’t understand where Isagi’s sudden burst of sincerity is coming from, in the middle of their kissing.

Bachira is Isagi’s best friend—seeing him fail to understand the way Isagi’s brain is ticking is rare, but it’s going on right now. As if the concept of fake cheating on your fake relationship is foreign to Bachira. Maybe it’s Isagi’s fault for assuming his best friend is actively on the prowl for a boyfriend, but you can’t blame a guy for being a little confused. A lot confused.

“You look like you’re mad at me,” he responds, unhelpfully. “I just—I don’t want us to sell ourselves short. I don’t want to prevent you from being with someone you actually want, Meguru—”

“You don’t know what I want.”

They hit the pentagon! Isagi feels himself flush, all the way down to his chest now, feels his heart drop to his ass, feels his legs start to shake. Bachira hardly uses so much conviction in his tone, but there he is, making such a remark at Isagi after their kissing’s come and gone.

You don’t know what I want. It’s a bold claim to come from Isagi’s best friend, his twin flame, the person that understands him when he doesn’t even recognize the man in the mirror. Up until right now, Isagi could tell you everything Bachira has ever wanted. A new drumset to match the colors he’s often associated with, bee-themed with stickers of their favorite bands. All the cutest stuffed animals at the novelty shops they go to. A hug when he’s cold, a bowl of soup when he’s feeling sick, a phone call with his mother when he’s upset. A sleepover with Isagi when they reach that flow state while writing and they aren’t ready to pack it in just yet.

Nine out of ten times, Isagi knows exactly what Bachira wants and how to give it to him. What makes right now any different? Bachira has been in and out of relationships with guys since they started the band, always finding someone new to gush over when they’re having an E4 gossip session. Is he just doing it for fun? Am I just for fun? Another page in the story of all the guys you’ve kissed?

It’s not like Isagi has any problem with the way Bachira perceives relationships. If he’s into short flings and situationships and low commitment, then that is totally fine—but also, if he is, then Isagi doesn’t want to inhibit him from chasing the lifestyle he enjoys. Being in a fake relationship with Isagi is probably doing detrimental numbers to Bachira’s “roster” of men in his Instagram DMs. It’s selfish to hold Bachira back from all of that potential. Selfish to use Bachira as a pawn in Isagi’s PR relations.

“Usually, it’s another guy,” Isagi huffs. “A guy that isn’t in the band. Or a guy that we’re both friends with… or fucking Kaiser that one time—”

“You’re actually mad about Kaiser?”

“I never said I was mad. Just thinking. I mean, I know how you are, Meguru. I want you to chase your dudes. Go get ‘em, tiger—”

“You’re fucking jealous,” Bachira retorts. “You’re jealous of Kaiser and Otoya and all the other guys I’ve entertained, aren’t you?”

“What is there to be jealous of?” (Isagi has never sounded more defensive in his entire life, and it’s hard not to notice how Bachira’s lips quirk up into a smile.) “That my best friend likes to kiss guys? I mean, obviously, it’s fine that you’re gay. I’m not jealous. You just have really bad taste in men, which is also fine—”

“I’m not stupid,” he laughs, but there’s a certain edge to it. An edge of sadness, of annoyance, and it makes Isagi want to put his head in the wall. “You’re jealous because I’ve kissed a bunch of our friends. We aren’t even dating. You don’t like me, but you’re still jealous and now you’re mad at me for—”

“Nobody is mad at anyone,” Isagi butts in. These two really need a talking stick. “Like I said, it’s fine that you’re into casual. But you’re never gonna be able to live how you want to if you’re stuck fake-dating me for PR.”

Well, if Isagi hadn’t blown it before, he definitely just killed it now. Bachira pulls back entirely, their bodies completely separated as he stares at Isagi from a foot away. Usually, at a time like this, he’s all seductive and romantic. Now, he’s just mad. Goddammit.

Maybe it’s time to go through with moving off the grid. Isagi can’t remember the last time Bachira has been genuinely upset with him, even if there’s been a catfight here and there. But here they are, facing each other, Bachira’s nose scrunched in distaste while Isagi’s words sink into his brain. Why can’t we just go back to what we were doing before? Less talking, more kissing?

“You don’t get to be jealous.” It’s short, and definitely coming from the heart. Bachira hasn’t sounded this serious in ages. “If this is nothing but a PR stunt to you, then you don’t get to sit around and spew some shit about how I usually want another guy. If you’re all upset because me and Kaiser kissed once, keep that shit to yourself, okay? Because there’s no use in being mad at me over a kiss that happened ages ago, and when we’re not even fucking dating.”

“I don’t think you can just decide how I feel.” Shut up, Isagi, just shut up. “If I’m jealous, then so what?”

“So, you admit it,” Bachira laughs—not a cute laugh, an angry laugh. The kind that makes Isagi want to curl up and die. “You’re jealous. And you’re mad at me for making my rounds in our friend group, too. There’s a reason you were the one guy I never wanted to take out, Yocchan. There is.”

Before Isagi can ask another question, before he can ponder what the hell that’s supposed to mean, Bachira is out. He’s nearly shoving Isagi out of the door’s way, going back to his own room for the first time in what feels like ages.

Isagi stands dumbfounded in the doorway. Tonight, he’s a lost puppy, and the tennis ball has been thrown in a direction unbeknownst to him—but he knows better than to pry into whatever Bachira is feeling right now. There’s no forcing the feelings out of him, and Isagi has learned this very well over the years.

Thank God their bandmates are out at dinner. Isagi doesn’t know how he would explain this situation to an outsider, or how he’s going to explain Bachira sleeping in his own room tonight, over this disagreement that did not need to happen. Everything would be fine if Isagi just kept his mouth shut.

Is he jealous? Why, yes, of course he is! Replaying that scene of Bachira and Kaiser kissing is enough to make Isagi suicidal. He’s jealous of anyone that’s gotten to kiss the boy that isn’t even his boyfriend, when all is said and done, when the world puts down its cameras and turns off its flash.

In all honesty, he doesn't know why he mentioned it, nor does he know why Bachira is so pissed about their entire conversation. You don’t get to be jealous. Why in the world does Bachira care if Isagi is jealous or not? What do you mean, there’s a reason Isagi never got his turn at being Bachira’s latest fling?

Either way, all Isagi can do is stare at the door in front of him as it lets the cool air into his bedroom. Just minutes ago, this door was slammed shut with Isagi’s back pressed against it. Now it’s open, and Isagi’s somehow managed to hit a nerve of Bachira’s hard enough to where he’s abandoned their usual ordeal altogether.

All he can do is stare at the wood of the door, face still flushed, heart still seated at the bottom of his stupid ripped jeans. Somehow, this is Kaiser’s fault.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

Isagi
I need to know the psychology behind managing to fuck up a FAKE relationship
Like genuinely
How does this even happen.

Hiori
well good morning to u 2
“fake” breakup with ur “fake” boyfran?
i wont tell rin

Isagi
Something of the sort
Apparently I’m “not allowed” to be jealous of him kissing other guys because we aren’t actually together
Ok well when I type it out it makes perfect sense
Fuck my life

Hiori
it’s never over yocchan
i mean there’s no helping if ur jealous or not, maybe u just shouldnt verbalize it if u are
yk?
but i also do not have bachira brain access, i dont even think he does sometimes
ur the closest it gets but that isnt an option right now is it

Isagi
No
Fought last night and he ran to his room, never to be seen again
HIS room
Mind you we’ve been sharing my room basically since this whole thing started
🙁

Hiori
as a friend i am sorry and i hope this situation resolves itself
guy to guy tho, how do you fumble a FAKE relationship with your BEST FRIEND that has been all over u since u MET
like u are baffling to me.

Isagi
I guess it’s because I brought feelings into it
Was supposed to be a no strings attached PR thing you know
But like. Okay. What happens in our texts stays in our texts
It makes me want to kick the chair when I think about all of our other friends that have gotten to kiss Bachira
Especially Kaiser which is why we fought
I just don’t get why Meguru even cares
If we’re not dating and he’s not my real boyfriend then why is he mad at me like he is

Hiori
i dunno
again, no bachira brain access
but i think u need to clear this up
obviously u have feelings for him

Isagi
Neither here nor there

Hiori
yeah whatever loverboy
ur hopeless
go get ur man

Isagi
Thanks bestie
This is gonna ruin the tour

Hiori
ur not even
nvm
get out of my messages and into the arms of ur lover

Throwing his phone to the foot of the bed, Isagi groans, filled with pure and utter annoyance. It’s annoying to get caught up in some bullshit like this when he's just here to have fun and make music. Bachira is worth getting caught up in, of course, it’s still frustrating.

It’s not like Isagi expects Hiori to know all the answers, but a direction would’ve been nice. Surely, he’s got to have some experience with relationship turbulence if he’s boyfriendwhateverthings with Rin. Ew. But Isagi knows very well that nobody is coming to save him, so he has to face the music. He’s gonna have to patch this one up himself—

But how? He’s already ruled out standing outside Bachira’s bedroom with flowers and having Kunigami simulate rain behind him for dramatic effect. A text message feels too low-effort for a situation like this, as does a phone call, and there’s hardly a point in choosing digital communication with his roommate.

Not just a roommate. A best friend, something like a lover. A situationship, as Hiori would say, but Isagi doesn’t like to read into that weird alternative title. What they have never needed a label until Isagi decided to open his big stupid mouth and make it all awkward. Whatever.

No matter how platonic they are, Isagi will always feel weird when Bachira’s not lying by his side, keeping the other half of the bed warm. There's really no point in Bachira even having his own room here. Almost all of the time Bachira’s lived in this apartment has been spent in Isagi’s room, or their shared kitchen at midnight when he gets hungry. Sometimes, Isagi joins too, and they spend their time engulfed in the kitchen lights while they talk about music and drama in the scene. Because Rin Itoshi getting a boyfriend, a beautiful and soft boyfriend, was a fucking spectacle. That awkward selfie from Hiori went double-platinum in the Bachira-Isagi gossip sesh.

Isagi has established time and time again that he is not stupid, even if this is up for debate, and he knows it isn’t over with Bachira. Of course. They’ll fall back into each other eventually, maybe without all the making out and the hot stuff, and the dynamic will be restored—but Isagi just doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get past the way Bachira looks when he’s kissing. Lost in the sauce. Nobody has ever drunk Isagi’s kisses up like water before, and Isagi’s not sure if he wants anyone else to do so.

If it were to be anyone, it would be Bachira. Not the girls from Hinge or the guys from Grindr. Not the other micro-celebrities in the scene that Ego tries to set him up on blind dates with to stir up social media timelines. None of those prospects could ever warm Isagi up the way Bachira does, and that’s just that. Unfortunately. Of all the people in the world, Isagi just has to fall for his best friend. The same best friend he’s been getting allegations with for literal years.

Looking back, the “allegations” are about as justified as any others. They do all of the classic band fandom ship things, holding hands and posting some potentially-suggestive pictures. Isagi thinks Bachira is gorgeous, and he looks at him like this is true, which is noticeable when you have fans that seem to notice every single fucking thing you do. Thank God they cannot see into Isagi’s bedroom window, or the Twitter posts would go crazy. Did you guys know—Bachira kisses with his eyes open? And Isagi is into it? What a sick fuck.

Somehow, someway, he’s got to fix this. There’s no way they can keep doing the distance thing when they live in the same apartment and play in the same band. All of their friends have mentally paired them off as a dynamic duo. They have the exact same social circle, too. Isagi’s parents would be devastated if they never got to hang out with Ms. Yuu again. Would she still let Meguru come over if she knew what we did?

(Well, it’s not like she can exactly ban her grown man of a son from spending time with his also-grown friend-thing. Isagi cringes at the thought of it, at the thought of Yuu lecturing Bachira over something that was definitely Isagi’s fault. Is it immature to be twenty and still want to spontaneously combust at the thought of your parents finding a hickey?)

He’s got to fix this. The gears in his brain are turning, somehow, even at this late hour of the night. It has been one day since he and Bachira had a fucking fight, and one day of radio silence from the only person he could see himself marrying in the future. This is wrong. Bachira can excuse it for a day or two, telling Chigiri that he’s got a migraine and can’t leave the bed, but it’s going to get old and suspicious after a while.

Part of Isagi wonders if Bachira should be the one coming to him, so he can discuss the matter when he’s ready on his own terms. But Isagi can’t wait forever, no. He doesn’t want to wait forever to get along again, and he certainly doesn’t want to wait forever to tell Bachira how he unfortunately, terribly feels for him. He punches the pillow thinking of Bachira and Kaiser kissing again, and then he groans, again, because what kind of loser stays up late to punch the bed over his best friend getting tipsy and kissing other guys? Not a heterosexual one, certainly, and not one that isn’t smitten.

Isagi can’t wait forever. Mentally, he makes a note—he’ll approach Bachira after breakfast. Just to check in, you know, and then he’ll ask if he’s feeling alright. Ideally, Bachira will respond, yes, my Yoichi, I love you! And all will be will in the world, and Isagi will postpone the social suicide he’s planning in his head by having to fake-dump his fake boyfriend. And he’ll get the absolute holy grail of boyfriends, if fortune truly favors him. Hell yes.

After breakfast. That gives him a good… eight hours to stress and ponder and maybe try and get some sleep. Maybe.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

Bachira’s favorite breakfast dish is the classic pancake, but today, he is allegedly not hungry and having a stomachache.

For starters, Isagi would shoot the sun if it burned Bachira’s shoulders with its rays, so he gets the inexplicable urge to figure out what’s causing his stomachache and fix it. Maybe some Pepto would help more, but the satisfaction of saving and helping and loving Bachira is enough to keep him going. Maybe all the way to the convenience store for that medicine, maybe all the way to Bachira’s lips again. Either one is fine.

But he knows there’s no stomachache—at least, not a stomach bug. Unfortunately and unprecedentedly, Isagi does not know how Bachira is feeling right now, so the cause of his stomachache is truly anybody’s guess. It could be nerves, could be angry. Do people get stomachaches when they’re angry? Does Bachira? Isagi can count the amount of times he’s seen Bachira angry on one hand, and usually, it’s because he got too drunk and started going on some random tangent. Something about dolphins being the best animal, soccer being the best sport, Isagi being the best friend…

Fuck. As much as Isagi wishes he could give Bachira the cold shoulder and return the energy, he can't help himself from being worried. Nobody has a two-day stomachache. Bachira might be developing an intolerance for an ingredient in their meals, maybe gluten or lactose. Might have the flu, yuck, and he might need the doctor. As much as Isagi wishes he weren’t this way, he wants to care. To pry, which is the one thing you shouldn’t do in a situation like this where a secret is being kept, but what’s a guy to do when his best friend/partial lover is ignoring him? It’s going to get painfully obvious, painfully soon.

“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” Kunigami teases, before shoveling some of these awesome pancakes into his mouth. It’s a shame Bachira’s missing out on these. “Did you get any sleep, Bachira?”

Bachira shrugs, “a little bit. I just have a stomachache…”

There it is again—that stupid excuse. A stomachache that prevents you from eating your favorite breakfast and kissing your favorite boy. Isagi wants to punch Bachira’s stomach as a punishment for hurting him, briefly, until he remembers that that’s… sort of counterproductive. Unless Bachira’s stomach pops out real quick to eat a knuckle sandwich.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” Chigiri asks, and Isagi nods in tandem with it. Trying to know his place in this conversation, because he doesn’t want to stir the pot and make it all awkward. Doesn’t wanna blow it again. “We can cancel practice if that’s what you need. Ego would understand, Bachira—”

“‘m not against canceling practice,” Bachira replies. “I don’t think I need the doctor, though. Not yet. Maybe just bed rest.”

“Sounds like somebody doesn’t feel like practicing today.” Laughing, Kunigami eats more of the breakfast. It’s almost like a flex. “It’s alright. Chigiri and I will still go… we’ll leave Isagi here with you. So he can take care of you.”

…yeah, that’s Isagi’s place in this conversation. In every conversation where his name is brought up, usually, but especially right now. He’s always Bachira’s lover and caregiver and right-hand man, and he wouldn’t have it any other way, except for right now. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be in the studio right now, but he can’t just leave Bachira hanging like that. God knows Bachira doesn’t know how to prepare a bowl of chicken noodle soup.

Bachira is, unfortunately, awful at hiding the way he feels in his face—and the absolute stink eye he pulls when Kunigami says this is lethal. Hell, Isagi is offended on Kunigami’s behalf. Something about a knuckle sandwich, but this is Kunigami we’re talking about, who really couldn’t hurt a fly. Really. Isagi wishes he were on that level, because he’s gone and hurt Bachira. The ultimate topper to his do-not-hurt list.

But Kunigami, as gracious as he is, doesn’t call him out. Doesn’t make it awkward, a skill Isagi envies. He just laughs in response to such a look and goes back to enjoying his breakfast, with the occasional break to make a comment or propose some hypothetical to get the table talking.

Isagi has been to management team meetings less awkward than this, but to be fair, he also wasn’t making out with any of his team at any point in history. There’s no romance between him and Jen from PR that promotes him on random billboards in New York City. Just between him and Bachira, within the confines of the bedrooms in this apartment or the bathrooms in the studio. Just him and Bachira.

He could get used to that. Living with the guys is nice, but somewhere out there, a domestic future lies in which Isagi is married. Married, maybe living in the countryside with a large backyard for soccer and a big pool for splashing around in the summer. A plethora of soccer balls, too, because someone with golden eyes likes to kick it out wide and then complain when he has to go get the ball from the random tree it’s tangled in. They might even get some cats and a big fish tank, and the kitchen will have a nice window above the sink to look out over their land while washing the dishes, and everything will be—

“I think,” Bachira mumbles, “I’m gonna go back to bed.”

Well, okay. Way to ruin the daydream, Bachira, with your foolish mortal desires such as rest and relaxation. Those are two things Isagi did not get to meet last night, stuck tossing and turning and fading off into dreams about Bachira’s hips in his hands. Thankfully, he’s got energy drinks in the fridge and some indomitable human spirit to carry him through the day (and a prospective naptime, considering that he’s been exempted from practice.) Knowing Bachira, he isn’t even going to bed. He’s going to reblog something gay on Tumblr and listen to that loud music in his headphones that’s definitely going to ruin his hearing by the time he’s thirty.

On Isagi’s next breath, Bachira is turning the corner and entering his own bedroom, with its offensively yellow bedspread and walls covered in posters. Isagi wants to hate it, wants to get some awful headache every time he walks in, but he can’t help from loving it. Truly, he has no idea how Bachira lives in there, but he also considers that his own bedroom is much less busy in terms of design.

“What’s up with that,” Chigiri asks, but it comes out as a statement. Like Isagi is not only expected to respond with something, he’s also expected to be right. To know. “You know, the attitude, the ‘stomachache,’ the not-eating-pancakes…”

“He’s in a mood,” Isagi responds. He knows that isn’t helpful, and this is only reinforced by Chigiri sighing in response. “Okay, that was no help. Um, we had a—”

“Holy shit, you had a PR breakup!” Let me finish my sentence, dammit! “Dude, how do you even have a fake breakup that actually pisses him off? You pissed off Bachira?”

“It was more of a disagreement than anything.” Sucking his teeth, Isagi puts down the fork. “A miscommunication. I guess I don’t know how he feels about anything right now, and he doesn’t get me.”

“It’s not a phase, mom,” Kunigami chimes in. “You two are ridiculous.”

Chigiri shoves his shoulder a little bit. Something tells Isagi that his and Bachira’s relationship has definitely been a topic of conversation over these last few weeks, and he’s not even mad at that. If his roommates were all over each other like that, then he’s sure he would lean in and gossip about it with Bachira, so…

“It’s stupid, I know,” Isagi groans. “Just wanna fix it, you know? I get why he’s pissed at me. I talked to Hiori about it and realized, wow, that made zero sense. This has to be a superpower.”

“They’re gonna start calling you The Fumbler on Twitter,” Chigiri laughs. “Maybe we should get you a t-shirt with it. Ooh, too soon?”

“It’s not even a real breakup. There’s no reason to, like, feel bad for me. More of a fight between friends than anything.”

“Friends don’t passionately make out during practice, Isagi.” (Kunigami is going to make a great disappointed father someday.) “Believe me, we heard. I just wanted to use the bathroom!”

Their kitchen’s window is looking really, really attractive right now. High enough to kill me? Only one way to find out! Thinking they wouldn’t get caught was a stupid move on Isagi’s end, but he didn’t want to hear feedback. What’s next, Isagi looks stupid when they kiss? He does this stupid thing where he parts his lips before they kiss, and there’s a split-second where he looks like some high-school boy leaning in for his girlfriend at the movie theater. Bachira probably thinks he’s an idiot. Wouldn’t be the only reason why.

“We never said we were for-real dating, so it’s an argument between friends,” Isagi huffs. “And that doesn’t matter. What matters is that Bachira is mad at me. Which, like, I can’t remember the last time this happened, so I’m kinda really super confused right now.”

“I mean…” Chigiri starts, “this is Bachira we’re talking about. I’m sure he wouldn’t bite if you were to go and, you know, talk to him.

Bachira certainly bites, is what Isagi would say if it wouldn’t uproot his entire train of thought for an hour. Bites my lips, because he claims I make a “stupid noise” and he thinks it’s cute, which is something he would do, but you guys wouldn’t get it.

“But I don’t know if he’s, like, ready to talk about it,” he picks instead. “He might not wanna see my face, which is fine. I don’t know what he’s dealing with in specific, but it’s gotta be a lot if he doesn’t want pancakes. This doesn’t just affect me, either. It’ll spread to the entire circle, and then to Ego, and then to Twitter. And then things will get really weird.”

“That’s not wrong,” Kunigami says, “but you really need to put you and Bachira first. Your friendship, your love, whatever. Not our business. But the fame and the awkwardness of talking about it with, I don’t know, Rin, is temporary. Fix what really matters first. You can deal with the aftermath later, which could be avoided if you didn’t talk about it outside of here…”

Why do you have to be right all the time? Even the thought of this entire situation getting out is enough to make Isagi develop a stomachache of his own. He doesn’t want people breathing down his neck, but more importantly, he doesn’t want Bachira getting any backlash from the situation that Isagi caused. Isagi could have denied his help and found a random girlfriend, but he managed to rope Bachira into his PR-stunt-gone-wrong.

Fumbling Bachira is so embarrassing, Isagi doesn’t even want to mention it to Hiori any more than he already has. Not only is it embarrassing to fumble your fake relationship, it’s also a little terrifying to greatly upset the one person that you’ve seldom upset throughout the duration of your entire friendship. What if he and Bachira never bounce back from this? If this is the end of E4, all because of Isagi and his stupid PR nightmare scenario?

That can’t be the case. This can’t be the end of a years-long friendship, and Isagi simply won’t have it. Won’t let PR and publicity get in the way of the realest connection he’s ever known.

There’s always been that little thought lingering, the age-old I wish you were a girl that sits in the back of Isagi’s mind and torments him when they’re physically close to each other. People accuse him of dating Bachira all the time—even his own parents have made a comment or two about their relationship—and it stings all the same when it's mentioned.

In theory, it’s perfect. Bachira is just Isagi’s type, with a big smile and a life full of laughter, but there’s also an entire crowd of millions watching their every move. They’ll never get to have a peaceful life if they continue this relationship in the public eye, and Isagi refuses to let random Twitter users ruin what could be the love of his life. Hell no. But Bachira’s got thick skin, and he seems to love so hard that it wouldn’t even matter.

People often overlook that in Bachira. He’s more of the casual type, for the most part, but that boy loves like nobody else Isagi has ever met. Maybe not romantically, but even platonically. Bachira probably won’t remember to bring you warm soup if you’re sick, but he will respond to random haters online if it means denouncing misinformation or hate. He’s gotten in trouble with Ego more times than Isagi can count for engaging in arguments with people online, most of which have been fights over Isagi hate comments. And even then, Bachira has always pioneered the get well soon train when Isagi has come down with the flu.

There’s a reason you were the one guy I never wanted to take out, Yocchan. There is. What the hell does that even mean, and is it anything Isagi wants to know? This could go two ways: either Isagi is offensively not Bachira’s type, or Bachira has avoided taking Isagi out for some other mysterious reason that Isagi wants to shove out of his brain. It can’t be. There’s no way, there’s just no fucking way.

Isagi prefers the former reason. If he avoids the chance of ever being in a relationship with Bachira, a real one, then he avoids the chance of being heartbroken and fucking up the friendship for good. No breakup drama to ruin the gang if they never get together in the first place!

(We see how that went. Isagi’s knee-jerk reaction is to blame this all on Rin for refusing to find and publicize a partner, but Isagi doesn't want to drag another party into this, so he refrains. At the end of the day, Rin is just another melodramatic artist with a complicated history. He doesn’t need more drama on his plate.)

But Kunigami really is right all the time, to a degree that makes Isagi want to smack him upside the head in pure jealousy. All of that brain, and he uses it to be more correct than Isagi when a situation arises. Go write a novel or something. Geez.

When Isagi is sitting here, pondering all that’s been said while his friends are chipping away at their breakfasts as normal, Isagi’s phone buzzes with a Twitter notification. He likes to keep his homepage clean, having notifications on for only his close friends, so there’s a chance this might be Hiori posting about Rin’s biceps on his private account. Gross.

bachiraaa :P @beechira
i misss syoichi ;,(((

Isagi’s phone hits the table in a way that makes Chigiri lower the fork from his mouth, either in annoyance or concern. Either one works for this situation, where Isagi is disrupting family breakfast on the basis of his “stupid gay rants” (as Hiori likes to call these discussions, affectionately.)

“What’s up?” Kunigami asks, sharing that same concern. “Family emergency?”

“Worse,” Isagi responds. “Bachira’s posting about me. From, like, two bedrooms away—”

“Watch your volume,” Chigiri hisses. “You’re horrible at gossipping. What’s he saying?”

Oh, nothing. Just that he misses me right now, when we fucking live together and he could come see me at any given moment. There is not a time where he doesn’t see me when he wants to. He literally comes into my bathroom just to yap with me. “Says he misses me. Or something.”

“Well, there you have it,” Kunigami laughs. “That’s your chance. You gotta reach out, man… your princess just gave you the coordinates of his castle.”

Your princess. Bachira sure is a damsel in distress right now, and who’s a better choice to save him than his very own Isagi Yoichi? He can play the role of the prince today. Waltz into Bachira’s room like he owns the place and give him that true love’s kiss to save his life, when he’s in a time of suffering like this. I miss Yoichi. Isagi wants to be mad, but he can’t. Bachira might be the one dishing out the silent treatment, but Isagi is the one that made it weird. Per usual.

Isagi is wired to give Kunigami a smart-ass response, something about living in the very same castle and paying a fourth of the rent, but he knows not to get smart with his chosen family at a time when he needs them most. Chigiri will ground him, even if they’re the same age. And Kunigami will give him the aforementioned disappointed dad look, and it’ll be like failing an exam in high school all over again.

“I guess I do,” Isagi responds, in lieu of some bullshit. “I’ll see if he’s up to it later. Might need some time to cool off…”

With that, Chigiri and Kunigami are satisfied. They know Isagi will come around to it, and know he’ll have this sewed up by tomorrow night if all goes well. Maybe not today, if Bachira is sick and doesn’t even want to speak to his friends at breakfast, but at least soon.

Isagi will come around to it. This Tweet is all he needed to get his mind kicking back into gear—it’s solid, undeniable proof that Bachira, to an extent, burns in the same way. He misses Isagi.

What a silly thing to say from a room or two over.

When Chigiri and Kunigami leave for practice, Isagi’s mind starts to race in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. There’s a black hole opened up in the apartment, and Isagi is getting sucked in, with not even a lamppost to anchor himself to the ground. Just him, just floating until he’s all wrapped up in this.

For the record, Isagi never said his impulse control was ideal. You have to strike the iron while it’s hot, and if Bachira’s “sick” and missing Isagi now, then who says he’ll still feel that way in a few hours? He could be angry again by dinnertime, and then Isagi will have blown it all. Once again. Isagi cannot take two failures in a row.

So, when they’ve got the place to themselves and Isagi’s finished cleaning up from breakfast, he lands a soft knock against the wood of Bachira’s door. This is a door that’s not often closed with Bachira on the other side, so the act of knocking feels foreign. Feels desperate. Here’s Isagi, coming crawling back to what’s familiar and angry and in a way, missing him. I can’t be jealous, but you can miss me and publicize it?

Isagi knocks. He’s going door-to-door, selling love and apologies and good intentions, but it seems Bachira isn’t in the market for anything today. Maybe his head really does hurt, because Isagi’s knock is met with silence. Radio silence. Not even a go away, Yocchan. Not even a fuck off. Just quiet, flatlining from inside Bachira’s room.

When Bachira is quiet, one of two things has happened: he’s made a stupid decision, or he’s genuinely upset. Neither of these outcomes are particularly favorable for either party, but Isagi is especially worried right now, when the ever-so-lively Bachira is holing up in his room and refusing breakfast and time with his favorite people. Bachira never turns down breakfast with the “family.”

“Meguru,” Isagi calls from the other side, about as weak as ever. No amount of vocal training prepares him for situations like this. “Um, are you okay?”

Instead of words, there’s a deep sigh, loud enough to be heard through the thin walls of his bedroom. Like he’s fucking annoyed. Isagi just cares, you know? He fucked it up and he just cares, and look where that got him.,

“If you need anything, you know you can always ask,” he adds, despite Bachira’s lack of desire for a good-old conversation. “I’m just a room over. You know where to find me…”

And he’s off. Here’s failure number two, blaring red in Isagi’s face, rushing the blood to his cheeks when he notices just how much of his heart is on his sleeve right now. If Bachira wanted to know every single thing running through Isagi’s head right now, all he would have to do is say the word.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t, and Isagi is on the receiving end of some serious silent treatment, and there’s nowhere to go from here but back to his own bedroom.

His bed feels emptier today. Maybe I should go pick up some lunch for Meguru.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

It’s two more days of silence before Bachira finally caves.

I miss Yoichi. What a silly thing to say as the person that is doing all of the ignoring, dodging all of Isagi’s attempts to even be in the same room. No family dinner, hardly showing up to practice (and performing worse than ever when he does show.) This is a side of Bachira that none of them have witnessed before, and at the core, it’s Isagi’s fault—which is not a nice feeling to deal with when you live with the person that’s angry.

But he caves around two days later. Isagi knew it wouldn't be permanent, their argument wasn’t the end, but it’s the longest two days of his entire fucking life. The quietest, the longest, the most awkward. The glum is starting to spread to their other roommates. It cannot be any fun to live in an apartment where two of the four residents are fighting and coming down from some evil PR situationship, but Chigiri and Kunigami bite their tongues around Isagi to keep something that resembles peace.

Meguru 💛
come

Yoichi 💚
Where

Meguru 💛
where do u think

Yoichi 💚
Your room I guess??

Meguru 💛
yes
jesus ur dense
2 brain cells fighting for 3rd place

Yoichi 💚
I’m not the one that nearly failed high school
On my way!
Sorry autocorrect. Omw

Meguru 💛
ok

Isagi caves faster than a damn avalanche, falling right back into Bachira’s door with his hand wrapped so greedily around the knob. This is what he’s been waiting for—the chance to apologize. To make a chance, to heal Bachira’s achy little heart. It’s no fun, witnessing the raincloud that’s formed over Bachira’s head. Even less fun when Isagi remembers it’s his own fault for attaching many strings to a no strings attached situation. Whatever. Focus on the goal.

“Not even gonna knock?” Bachira huffs, seated on the edge of his bed when Isagi comes barrelling in. “Where are your manners?”

“I don’t want to hear anything about manners from you,” Isagi responds, but he can’t help himself from smiling in the process. “Bossing me around like you own me.” You do. You kind of do.

“And you came running back.” Astute observation. “Anyways, I’ve had my time. Wanna talk about it…”

It’s as simple as that, the way they tumble back into each other like dominos. One thing happens, and then everything seems to unravel, but there’s nowhere Isagi would rather be right now than here. Even if it’s painfully awkward and he’s standing here in his pajamas on a random evening, their other two roommates sound asleep while all of this is going down. Being in the same room as Bachira right now is a gift.

“It’s only been, like, an entire week,” Isagi huffs. If his mother were in the room, she would backhand him for speaking to sweet Meguru like that. Now, would she think he’s so sweet if she saw what they were getting up to when nobody else was around? He supposes she’ll never know, because that would be embarrassment at its finest. As far as Isagi’s parents are concerned, he and Bachira are just friends. A suspicious pair of friends, but still, friends. Platonic.

“Like I said, my time. Sometimes I need time to let things linger, is that okay?” Bachira replies, all sassy as he sits up, legs in the good ol’ criss-cross-applesauce position that Isagi sees him in all the time, when he’s writing songs or poking around on Isagi’s laptop for whatever reason.

“Yeah—whatever. That’s fine.” He stutters like he’s not a global phenomenon and a famous singer. I must look so stupid right now. “I don’t get you, Meguru.”

“You’d understand better if this weren’t the first time you’ve actually pissed me off the entire time we’ve been friends.” Gee, thanks. “And I don’t even—I don’t know what the hell’s up with us. With you, either, mister possessive.”

“How the hell am I supposed to react when you kissed Michael Kaiser!” Isagi exclaims, though it’s meant to be a question. “That’s burned into my mind forever. I swear, he was into you for a little while there. Makes me want to wring his neck out—”

“I just don’t see why you care so much,” is how Bachira cuts him off. “When I kissed Kaiser, you and I were just friends. Nothing more than that, other than the one time we’d made out when we were drunk, which is, like, normal. Everyone does that when they’re drinking underage for the first or second time.”

I just don’t see why you care so much. Why does Isagi care?

There is a simple answer—Isagi cares because he likes Bachira. He’s fallen, head over feet, and wants to be the only man Bachira kisses and will kiss for the rest of his life. He wants to go back in time and erase every other kiss from Bachira’s lips, just so Isagi can be his first kiss, his first boyfriend, his first love. There is no universe in which Michael Kaiser is more worthy of kissing Bachira than Isagi is, and that’s just a fact.

But there’s more to it than the facts. Isagi likes Bachira, but on the other side of that coin, he loves him. Craves his mouth at night like a glass of water in the desert, yearning for the second their lips will connect again and bring forth all of those delightful feelings. Yearns for Bachira’s hands on his waist again, Bachira’s lips on his neck, Bachira’s jokes in his ears. This isn’t just a crush. This is devotion, built off of years of a thinly-veiled homoerotic friendship that Isagi got unreasonably flustered about every time it was mentioned by an outsider.

Plainly, there is no platonic, heterosexual way to explain anything that has happened between him and Bachira since they became friends. There’s nothing that screams besties more than kissing your best friend drunk and liking it, huh? Isagi has thought about that drunk kiss with Bachira more than he’s thought about his future career. Of course he wants to lead the greatest boyband in the world, but what’s left for him when all of that is dust? The spotlight will come and go, but if he somehow scores a life with Bachira, then he could know what forever feels like.

Isagi doesn’t need a fanbase if he has the people he loves, and getting to be Bachira’s man for the foreseeable future sounds more amazing than any big show or Billboard chart result. He’s daydreamed about it way more than he should: buying their own place together, setting up two rocking chairs on the back porch to listen to all the music they made together and sing along. There are love songs in their catalog, ones that Isagi swears up and down are just generic situations meant to be relatable to the audience, but who says their music about falling for what’s right in front of them isn’t about Bachira?

“I think,” Isagi starts, whispering, “I care because I want you.”

All of the gears in Bachira’s head appear to stop turning. Look whose brain cells are fighting now. He looks over at Isagi with his eyes widened, either in shock or horror, at this confession. The world’s worst confession, in Isagi’s book, when we look at the fact that he basically writes tales of love and heartbreak and connection for a living. He can sing all of those words on stage, but the second it’s time to tell Bachira that he’s been missing him since before they met, he’s suddenly some idiot.

“You… want me?” Bachira responds. He’s hesitant, Isagi can tell.

Certainly, this situation is not ideal for Bachira. He’s not really the type to get all tied-down, especially not when they’re so young and wild. He’s the type to rally for that game of Spin the Bottle and get excited when he gets to kiss a new pair of lips; the type to wake up and decide when he’s over it. Bachira doesn’t stick around people that he doesn’t want to be with anymore, but he’s stuck with Isagi for years. The most valuable years of Isagi’s life, actually.

“You heard me.” Is your brain made of styrofoam? “I, um, I like you. I think. I can leave if you want—”

“Yocchan, what the fuck!”

Bachira is laughing. Not some maniacal laugh, there’s no cleaver getting thrown at Isagi’s neck, but he’s laughing. Genuinely laughing, and it’s the liveliest he’s sounded in days. Since the fight, the crash, the downfall of their little thing they had going on.

Isagi’s face is completely red by now, so there’s no hiding anything he feels about anything tonight. The sound of Bachira’s laughter is enough for him to forget all fortifications and just be himself around Bachira once again, because Isagi would blow his entire paycheck to have this laugh play in the background of his brain forever. That’s just that.

“I don’t get it,” he mumbles, looking down at his feet while Bachira clutches his stomach in this laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“Genuinely,” Bachira laughs, “you are the biggest idiot I’ve ever met. And I’m friends with Otoya.”

“I—I told you I would leave, if you’re uncomfortable or mad or whatever,” Isagi stammers, backing into the door. Craving sudden death, but also, an ascension to Heaven. With Bachira, preferably shirtless. “I’m sorry. I know it’s really sudden and I didn’t go about expressing it as well as I should—”

“Yocchan. Seriously. You don’t even know how relieved I am right now.”

Relieved? Suddenly, this door is very comfortable, and Isagi’s shoulderblades nestle themselves nicely between the paneling. Going over to that bed right now is dangerous.

Bachira is relieved. Maybe because their fight has finally been resolved and all can be well in the world. Maybe because he can finally just reject Isagi and go back to his Tinder matches that he had to pause for this PR stunt. Maybe because—

“I have had a crush on you since I saw you, Yoichi. And maybe even before that.”

Well, there’s Isagi’s answer. Bachira knows him, knows that the best way for Isagi to understand what he’s saying is to spell it out. A crush on you. It’s unlike Bachira for him to say such a thing, but Isagi deems it acceptable for right now. The kicker is that he’s saying it to Isagi and not some random man from a random app.

“What—me?” He’s sputtering now, his brain reduced to the engine of a cigarette car with approximately one mile of life left, and Bachira still giggles all the same. “Since we met? We’ve known each other for years. You have had entire boyfriends—oh my God, was I homewrecking by accident?!”

“Not homewrecking if it was barely official and I never wanted them,” Bachira shrugs. “Always wanted it to be you. Again, there was a reason I never wanted to get with you. I guess I—I didn’t want to like it too much and ruin the friendship.”

“You feeling a certain way never would have ruined the friendship.” We could have been past this years ago. “I mean—obviously I like you, but even if I didn’t, you’d still be my best friend. You’re, like, my soulmate. Kinda. That’s cringy, isn’t it?”

“Cringy, but cute. Soulmate. I didn’t think you believed in those.”

“It’s not like I think there’s some red string connecting you to your fated partner or whatever. I just—some people were put in the world to be with each other. Friends or otherwise. And I’ve always felt like that around you, okay? Like we were written in the stars to be friends, or something, or more than friends. You get me?”

Bachira nods, “I get you. And now I get you. You’re mine, Yoichi. Don’t you think about redownloading Hinge ever again, or I’m gonna show Ego a real PR nightmare.”

You’re mine. That’s a title Isagi will gladly swallow up, wearing it like a badge of honor. Bachira Meguru’s boyfriend and best friend and soulmate, all rolled up into one. The world could end right now and Isagi would be happy with his life’s achievements. Famous musician, paying his mother’s bills, and finally getting it together romantically. With Bachira. Hiori is going to have a field day with this.

“Noted,” Isagi responds. Relief washes over him as he makes his way to the bed, to finally join Bachira on this mattress that their little situationship never touched. Most of the interactions they had were in Isagi’s room, and Bachira’s bedroom has always been sort of useless in the grand scheme of their household. He never needed his own bed when he would just crawl into Isagi’s every night. Chigiri always joked about turning it into an in-home spa, but Bachira objected on the basis of what if. What if Yoichi gets a girlfriend? What if we have a fight? What if he gets sick and doesn’t want to spread it to me?

Isagi will never be opening Hinge again. This is all he needs, potentially for the rest of his life. Bachira seated just inches away from him, sharing a bed like they always have, looking mighty fine in his stupid dolphin boxers and a shirt that is probably Isagi’s from a year ago. Unfortunately, Bachira could walk out of his bedroom in a top hat and Isagi would still want to mess up the hair beneath it while they kiss. His fatal flaw is that he’s so damn hot.

It’s easy to fall back into their routine from before, the one where they couldn’t keep their hands and lips off of each other—but this time, it’s filled with passion. Love. Neither of them are going to say it this early on in their… relationship, even if Bachira has said he loves Isagi about a million times in the last year. It’s different now, when there’s a certain undertone to their relationship. A romantic one, because Isagi likes Bachira and somehow, Bachira likes Isagi back. And now they’re kissing in Bachira’s bed, their lips sliding together like puzzle pieces, just as perfectly as they were before.

Bachira really is something of a professional kisser. He’s the dream lead of every rom-com, with that effortless charm and those perfect lips, but Isagi would probably set the directors on fire if they hired his man for a movie in which he has to kiss somebody else. Surely Isagi has enough fans to pioneer a successful smear campaign against anyone that tries to come between him and Bachira. Surely Isagi needs to get serious and stop thinking about all the people he would kill for touching Bachira while he’s, well, touching Bachira. While he’s got Bachira’s tongue in his mouth.

Nobody will ever get to kiss Bachira like this again, and Isagi revels in this fact. No more drunk kisses with Kaiser or meetups with Jake from Tinder, but don’t worry, he’s visiting from America and it wouldn’t be a long-term thing anyways. No more pining, even though Isagi is pretty sure he would yearn for Bachira from one room over on a good day, one where they aren’t even mad at each other.

This is the best anyone has ever looked, Isagi thinks. Bachira might not be all proper right now, with his eyeliner wiped off and his hair messy and a handful of his piercings taken out, but he still looks so damn good. He looks natural, in a way that his other flings have never witnessed. Isagi has the advantage of being his roommate and getting to fawn over the way he looks when he’s not all cleaned up and camera-ready.

Isagi is the first to pull away, but not for long. “You look so good right now,” is all he says, and triumph bubbles in his chest when he sees the blush that casts across Bachira’s cheeks. “So good, Meguru. You’re beautiful.”

“I don’t even have my—my stuff on,” Bachira responds, his voice coming out in a low whisper. If they wake Chigiri and Kunigami up, it’s over. They are getting grounded by people that are their age, and neither of them would even be willing to disobey such a restriction. “Like, my eyeliner. Or my piercings, or an actual outfit—”

“Don’t care. You look so hot all the time, and I always just have to deal with it. I just have to tell you that your outfit is cool—” his lips move down, leaving the space across from Bachira’s and traveling to his neck, “—even when I want to say that you’re hot. Magical. You’re like some—some Renaissance painting, or something, I don’t know.”

“You really do have a thing for me, don’t you.” Laughing, he leans into Isagi’s head where it lies near his cheek, letting Isagi’s hair brush against his skin. “I never thought you would. Otoya told me you were crazy about me, but that was just a lucky guess. That guy wouldn’t know real love if it slapped him in the face with an engagement ring.”

“Otoya doesn’t know anything about this,” Isagi mumbles. “Never talked about it with anyone but… Hiori, and Chigiri and Kunigami, kind of. But Hiori probably told Rin. He tells Rin everything.”

“Well, that is his boyfriend-thing. Of sorts. I don’t really know that they are, but I know they aren’t just friends. Hiori would marry Rin in a parking lot.”

“Yeah. Don’t wanna think about Rin and Hiori right now.” Where did this side of you come from, little Yocchan? “Just wanna think about you, and me, and us.”

“Okay, Yocchan,” Bachira giggles. “I’ll stop distracting you.”

I don’t think that’s possible, Isagi says—in his head, of course, because his mouth is sort of occupied on Bachira’s skin right now. You’ve been distracting me for ages.

It’s whatever. If Bachira wants to, he can distract Isagi for the rest of their lives—and judging by the way they’re tied up in each other right now, Bachira definitely wants to.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

Isagi Yoichi @isagiyoichi
Just a quick reminder that I have the most gorgeous, jawdropping, showstopping, spectacular, magical, beautiful, hilarious, mystifying, enchanting, alluring, hot steamy delicious sweet kind lovely amazing boyfriend in the world! E4 album soon too I guess but who cares about that

“Is that seriously how you’re announcing the album?” Rin asks, sliding his phone across the table at the meeting for Isagi to read his own (overwhelmingly gay) words from last night.

Isagi nods, “had to tell them the truth. It’s hard to think about music when I have that going on, you know?”

“When you have a PR relationship going on,” the other corrects. “Whatever. This is the closest you’re getting to a real boyfriend, anyways. Might as well cherish it.”

Really, it’s a great thing that Isagi does not indulge himself in poker or other related activities, because his poker face right now as he sits across from Rin is nowhere to be found. He is laughing on impact at the amount of wrong in Rin’s sentence, even if Rin doesn’t know that Bachira and Isagi are official. “Locked in,” as Hiori would say, but it seems like Isagi’s friends are better at keeping secrets than he gives them credit for.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me,” Rin scolds. “It’s not funny. You’re gonna be alone forever—”

“Rin. We gave up on the PR stuff a hot minute ago,” Isagi tells him. It’s supposed to be a confession; it comes out as a joke. “We’re, like, you know. Official.”

Getting Rin Itoshi surprised is an achievement in itself, and so is not getting punched in the face by him for laughing at this entire conversation. It’s truly a miracle that Isagi’s nose is not broken right now.

“Seriously?”

Isagi doesn’t know why Rin is so surprised. It’s not like a PR relationship with his best friend was just going to fizzle out and end when they were literally kissing each other for fun, for hours on end, but he knows Rin is unaware of all that. Isagi and Rin don’t exactly talk about making out with Bachira when they see each other. They talk music, talk business, talk how do we stop the RPFers.

“Yeah, seriously. I’m really happy about it all.” There’s some dreamy sigh, the kind that Isagi amps up on purpose to piss Rin off. “Apparently, he’s liked me the whole time. And we just—we never got on the same page until now.”

“No, I believe that you’re together,” Rin huffs. “I’m shocked that it took you this long to get your shit together and date him. I mean, everyone knows, Isagi. Everyone knew Bachira liked you except for you.”

“And none of you decided to tell me?” As if Rin would ever do Isagi a favor like that. “You guys are the worst friends ever. Seriously. We could have been together ages ago—”

“—if you weren’t so dumb.” There's his sentence, finished by the… friend across the table. So compassionate! “He could have proposed to you and you still wouldn’t have realized he was… in love with you. Or whatever.”

“Either way, I figured it out.” Obviously. There are traces of Bachira everywhere Isagi goes now. Bachira’s scent on his clothes, his lipgloss kisses on Isagi’s cheek, his name on Isagi’s social media accounts. Anyone with eyes can tell what’s going on. “Even if it took Ego forcing me into a relationship to get there.”

Poor Rin might as well be clutching his stomach in disgust right now, presumably thinking about Bachira and Isagi dating. Doing all of the cute couples’ things, the dates and matching jewelry and I love yous. As if he and Hiori aren’t doing that in secret, probably, though Isagi will never ask. Feels too personal, even if he tells Hiori all of his stupid secrets.

“Yeah, ew. Let’s get back to the music stuff,” Rin declares, and they’re coming back together over a list of potential tour destinations on their next breaths.